


Collected SPG One-Shots

by chibiwonder



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Other, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:53:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 32,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibiwonder/pseuds/chibiwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Written for SPG's collective birthday. January 28, 2013.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. It Was Three AM In Walter Manor…

The Spine looked up from his Pac Man game and sniffed. The room didn’t smell quite like it usually did, an acrid smell of wires and electricity. There was a scent on the air that smelled like… sugar. Brown sugar, specifically. Odd.

The Spine paused his game and went to investigate. The silver bot followed the scent down the hallways toward the kitchen. He heard clattering noises, the sounds of pots and pans being shuffled around and put back with no regard as to the noise that was echoing through the manor.

Peeking around the entryway, The Spine saw Hatchworth bustling around, wooden spoon and mixing bowl in hand. He was humming softly, making cookies it looked like.

"Um, Hatchy, what are you doing up?" The Spine asked, stepping into the kitchen.

The bronze bot turned, setting his mixing bowl on the counter. “Oh, hello, The Spine,” he said in his usual reedy tone, “I am making a Batchworth of cookies.” The oven beeped, and Hatchy busied himself with removing a tray of cookies and putting them on cooling racks.

The Spine watched and sighed. “Why are you making cookies?”

"I thought that the humans would appreciate it."

"I bet they will, Hatchworth, but they’d probably appreciate it more if you weren’t making them at three in the morning."

Hatchworth paused in his work for a moment. “Perhaps you are correct. But it is no good, I cannot stop now. There is still some batter left.” The bronze bot looked over his shoulder at The Spine. “I shall try to hurry, so that I do not make noise for much longer.”

He began placing globs of batter on another cookie sheet, quickly and efficiently. The Spine wandered over and glanced in the mixing bowl. There was still a lot of batter there.

Reaching down, The Spine pulled another cookie tray from under the counter. He grabbed a stick of butter and ran it over the sheet, then began to take globs of batter from the bowl and lay them out, neatly and quickly.

"Oh, no, The Spine, you do not have to help me," Hatchworth said, sliding his tray into the oven and setting the timer.

Steam escaped from the silver bot’s lips as he sighed again. He raised his eyebrows at Hatchworth. “Why don’t you go and wash that other cookie sheet, Hatchy? We’ve got a lot of work to do.”


	2. Watching the Rain

It was raining.

That was to be expected sometimes in January, so Rabbit thought almost nothing of it, though he was slightly disappointed that he’d had to picnic with Jenny in the greenhouse instead of the garden like they had planned. But the date had gone well despite that, so Rabbit was walking with a bit of a spring in his step as he left the kitchen. He hummed a little tune as he walked down the hallways, looking for something more to do. He passed by one of the living rooms that overlooked the garden and paused. Sometimes he could find The Spine in there reading a book, and the silver bot was usually willing to talk to him.

Rabbit peeked his head in. The Spine was nowhere to be seen, but Hatchworth was sitting in a large window-seat, looking out at the gardens below, watching the rain fall.

It struck Rabbit as slightly unusual that Hatchworth wasn’t moving. The bronze robot wasn’t exactly twitchy, but anyone would be hard pressed to find him as still as this.

Rabbit advanced slowly, wondering if he should call for Michael Reed to fix him, but what little worry he had was put to rest when Hatchworth spoke.

"Hello, Rabbit," he said, not turning away from the window.

Rabbit stood behind the bronze bot and stared out at the rain, trying to discern what made it so interesting. “Hiya, Hatchy. What are y-y-you up to?”

"It is raining."

"Yeah, Hatchy it sure is," Rabbit agreed, and he glanced at his fellow automaton. "W-w-why are you staring at it?"

"I have not seen rain… for a long time."

Oh, right. Rabbit stared out the window. “Yeah… I guess you haven’t.” He settled himself into the window seat beside the bronze bot. “Best enjoy it while it lasts. It d-d-doesn’t rain in San Diego very much.”

"I did not think so." Hatchworth’s mustache twitched as he smiled. "I was intending to do so many things today. But I got distracted by the rain. I hope nobody gets angry."

"They won’t."

"Are you sure?"

Rabbit smiled. “Yeah, Hatchy, I’m sure.”

The two of them watched the rain in silence for a few moments.

"S-s-say, Hatchworth," Rabbit asked, "Far be it from me, to ask, but… when was the last time you  _did_  see rain?”

The bronze robot considered the question. “I… I do not recall. Perhaps it was a short while before—” Silence, save the patter of rain on the window.

Rabbit bit his lip, a habit he had picked up by watching the humans around the manor. “I’m sorry if I upset you, Hatchworth.”

"I do not have the capacity to be upset," Hatchworth stated.

Rabbit raised an eyebrow. “Yes you do. Everyone d-d-does. I’ve  _seen_  you get upset.You cry and everything.”

His companion looked slightly perplexed. “Is that what this emotion is?”

"Yeah… Didn’t you know that?"

"No. I did not have an emotion like that until after I was—" Hatchworth stopped again. He looked over at Rabbit, his face twisted with despondency. "Can we not talk, please?"

The copper bot felt a sympathetic tug where his heartstrings would be if he had them. Well, they all had things they would rather not talk about. He nodded, and the two of them leaned back into the window seat and watched the rain fall.


	3. In Which Rabbit Finds a Cat in The Garden

Rabbit was making excited noises in the garden. He’d been out there for a quarter of an hour or so, and about three minutes previous he had started cooing and giggling over something he had found. The sounds floated through the warm air back toward The Spine, who sat near the doorway, reading and enjoying the sunshine. He didn’t pay the noises much attention; Rabbit could often be heard making those sounds if he found a particularly interesting bird or butterfly.

The cooing sounds came closer, and The Spine set down his book to listen and see if he could determine what had made his brother so happy.

"…So cute, yes you are! You’re so precious! A precious, ad-d-dorable ball of fluffy!"

The Spine raised an eyebrow. Well, it definitely wasn’t a butterfly. He stood as Rabbit rounded the corner of a hedge cradling a small gray cat in his arms. The copper bot had a happy smile on his face as he gently scratched the cat behind the ears. He glanced up at The Spine and his photo-receptors lit up.

"Hi, Th’ Spine!" he said excitedly, "I found a kitty!"

"I can see that, Rabbit," The Spine replied as Rabbit sidled up to stand beside him. "Where did you pick it up?"

"It’s a _her_ , Spine. I found her in the geraniums! She was digging ‘em up, b-b-but she stopped when she saw me. I finally managed to pick her up just now, ‘cuz I wanted you to see her. Isn’t she pretty?”

The Spine looked at the cat. The cat looked back at The Spine. She  _was_  very pretty, a short-haired gray cat with black marks around her bright green eyes. They stared at each other for about half a minute, then the can yawned and nuzzled Rabbit’s forearm.

Rabbit smiled down at the cat, then looked back at The Spine. “I th-th-think she looks kind of like you. If you were a cat,” he said, stroking the creature. “Can we keep her?” his photo-receptors seemed to expand to twice their normal size. “Pleeeeeease? I promise I’ll take care of her, and she l-l-likes me.”

The Spine furrowed his brow. “I don’t think so, Rabbit.” He felt a twinge in his core at the crestfallen look on Rabbit’s face.

"B-b-but why nooooooot?" The automaton looked down at the cat in his arms. "I w-w-was gonna name her after you and make sure she h-h-had a litterbox and toys and everything."

That statement caught The Spine’s attention. “You were… going to name her after me?”

"Uh-huh. I was gonna call her Spiney… I couldn’t think of anything else," Rabbit admitted sheepishly.

The Spine felt his mouth tug into a smile despite himself. Well, there was no harm, really… “Tell you what, why don’t we go and ask Peter? We’ll see what he says.”

\----

They found Peter in his twenty-first study. Generally they tried not to bother him when he was working, but The Spine felt that, should Peter say no, Rabbit should have as little time as possible to get attached to Spiney — Er, the cat.

The Spine knocked on the doorframe and tried furiously to get his mental processes in order. Rabbit trailed behind him, stroking the cat and cooing lovingly.

"What is it?" Peter asked. He didn’t turn away from his work, but raised his head to indicate that he was listening.

The Spine stepped partway into the room and cleared his throat. He beckoned through the doorway for Rabbit to join him, and the copper bot appeared at his side a moment later. The two bots looked at one another, trying to figure out what to say. Things always seemed a bit more complicated when they were talking to Peter.

The cat spared them answering by mewing softly. The Spine could almost hear Peter’s raised eyebrow. “Is that a cat? Where did you get a cat?”

"I f-f-found her in the garden, Petes," Rabbit piped up. "I w-w-was wondering if I could…"

Peter stood up and faced them, his mask impassive as usual. He studied the cat in Rabbit’s arms. Spiney, for her part, stared imperturbably back at him.

"So… c-c-can I keep her?" Rabbit’s photo-receptors were wide and pleading. "I’ll take good care of her, I promise!"

Peter sighed. “No, Rabbit.”

The Spine watched his brother’s face crumple and felt his core twinge. Rabbit had, despite all intentions to the contrary, grown very fond of Spiney in the short time they had been together. A pained, mechanical sound escaped Rabbit’s throat and startled the cat, who began to worm her way out of the copper bot’s arms, mewing frantically. This only caused Rabbit to sob harder.

The Spine quickly plucked the cat out of Rabbit’s embrace and held her close to his chest, stroking her agitated fur. He hummed softly and felt her settle in his arms and start to purr. He looked down at the cat and noticed something he hadn’t before, and suddenly Peter’s verdict made sense.

"Rabbit," he said, loud enough to be heard over the mechanical sobs, "Rabbit, this cat already belongs to someone."

The copper bot sniffed. “Huh?”

Peter indicated the cat’s thin blue collar. “The collar means that it belongs to someone, Rabbit.”

"Oh." Rabbit bit his lip. "I guess that’s why I can’t keep her?"

Peter nodded. “The cat needs to be returned to its owner. I’ll have someone—”

"No, no," Rabbit said, then he immediately shrank back. "I’ll d-d-do it."

Peter tilted his head, then shrugged. He turned back to his work. “If you want to, you can. Could you go with him, The Spine?”

"Sure thing, Peter," The Spine replied, and the two automatons left the study together.

\----

The found the cat’s home address on her collar, along with her real name, Whiskers. “That’s not very imaginat-t-tive,” Rabbit grumbled as they walked through the nearby neighborhood. “I think my name for her was _way_  better.”

The Spine said nothing, and Whiskers purred.

"D-d-do you think we could convince the owners to give her to us, Spine? I bet we could. I bet they’d give her to us if we asked. Right?"

The silver bot shook his head. “I don’t think so, Rabbit.”

Rabbit huffed some steam into the evening air, and the walk continued in silence, save for Whiskers’ purring.

Eventually they reached the house she belonged to. The Spine’s hands were full, so Rabbit rang the bell. They waited for a few seconds, then they heard the sound of footsteps.

The door was opened by a small boy, no more than seven. Any surprise he showed about the pair of robots on his front porch was immediately eclipsed by happiness. “Whiskers!”

The cat mewed happily as The Spine handed her over to the boy, who cuddled her fiercely.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou," the boy said as he looked up at the pair of them. "I thought she was gone forever!"

"Oh," said The Spine, "it was no trouble. Right?" He nudged Rabbit, who nodded slowly.

"Yeah, no trouble," he said. "She… She was really nice."

The boy snuggled with his pet, smiling. “Thanks for bringing her back. I missed her so much. You must be good robots,” he said, which caught them both a little off-guard. “Not like the ones in  _Terminator_.”

The two automatons laughed a bit. “Nope,” Rabbit said, “we’re definitely not like them. S-s-say, could I maybe—”

"Rabbit, we should go," The Spine said, looking at the streaks of red in the sky. "It’s getting late."

"Right… Right, I was just gonna…" Rabbit knelt down and put out his hand toward the gray cat. She nudged his fingers affectionately with her nose, and he smiled. "B-buh-bye, Whiskers. You take care now. Don’t go getting lost again." He stood up. "You’ll take good care of her, right kiddo?"

The boy nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

Rabbit bit his lip and waved goodbye as the boy gently closed the door. Then he and The Spine set off for home.


	4. Going Ahead With A Tea Party

"Hey, Spine."

"Hm?"

Rabbit shifted from foot to foot. “Can… Can I see you take your head out?”

"What?" The Spine set down his paper and looked at the copper bot suspiciously. "Why? You’ve seen me do it before."

"I know. I just… I dunno, Spine, c-c-could you just show me?"

The silver robot sighed. “I’m not a circus act, Rabbit.”

"I know that!" Rabbit looked slightly irritated. "I know that, Th’ Spine, I just… Y’know, I wanted to know if you could still do it. I haven’t seen you do it in ages… Not since, uh…" he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "When was it? Nineteen… fifty-three? I haven’t seen you do it without QWERTY’s help, anyway."

The Spine raised an eyebrow. “I can still do it.”

"I don’t believe you." Rabbit’s photo-receptors glinted playfully. "C’mon, show off a little."

The Spine set his newspaper aside, twitched his neck, and loosened his tie. Rabbit hopped slightly in excitement, grinning like he knew he had won.

"No."

"What?" Rabbit deflated like a popped balloon. "Why n-n-not?"

"You’re planning something. I can tell."

"I am not!" Rabbit said indignantly. "I just want to see it, is all."

"See what, Rabbit?" The Spine said mildly, reaching up to fiddle with his neck.

"I wanna see you take your head out!"

 ”Oh,” the Spine said, grinning. “You mean, like this?” And his body fell limp as his head crawled out onto his shoulder. It scuttled, with a great many clicks and whirrs, down his now stationary arm toward Rabbit, who watched in delight.

"Oh, boy, Th’ Spine, that’s pretty s-s-slifty!" He stuck out his arm. "Ya wanna crawl up mine?"

The Spine stretched his neck out until he had a firm grip on Rabbit’s forearm, then began to crawl up toward the bot’s shoulder. He looked up and saw an ominous, coppery grin. It almost seemed sinister, in fact.

"Rabbit… What are you thinking?"

The mismatched photo-receptors gleamed mischievously. The Spine suddenly felt a hand trap the lower part of his neck, and before he knew what was happening, Rabbit was walking out of the room, leaving his body behind them.

"Rabbit!" The silver bot struggled furiously against Rabbit’s grip, but he couldn’t do much without hands. "Rabbit, put me down!"

"Nope!" The copper bot strode through the hallways of the manor into one of the many living rooms. The Jon sat waiting as patiently as he could next to a plastic tea set, set for three. Beside him was a large, headless teddy bear.

"You got him!" he exclaimed delightedly.

"Yep! Help me get him off my arm, would ya, buddy?"

That was fine by The Spine. He had to get back to his body, forget this whole incident, and then pretend to be deaf whenever Rabbit asked him anything ever again.

He felt The Jon grab the sides of his head and pull him off of Rabbit’s arm. He writhed furiously, trying to loosen the golden robot’s grip, but it was no use, and he quickly tired out. He dangled pointlessly as The Jon plopped his head onto the teddy bear body. He did have enough energy to huff some steam as Rabbit placed a large paper crown on his head.

"Guys," he said, as the two bots put on similar paper crowns and settled themselves at the table, "Guys, this is just silly, you know that, right?"

"D-d-don’t be such a downer, Spine" Rabbit scolded.

"Yeah, you’re gonna ruin the tea party." The Jon poured water from the plastic teapot into the plastic teacups, then delicately picked one up and passed it to Rabbit. "Would you like some tea, my good sir?" he said, putting on an over-the-top lordly accent.

"Why, yes, Princess The Jon," Rabbit replied in an equally ridiculous accent. "Perhaps Missus Nesbitt would like some tea as well?"

The Spine narrowed his eyes. “What?” he asked flatly.

"Oh, yes, Sir Rabbit, I think she would love to have some tea," The Jon said, placing another cup of water in front of The Spine and his teddy bear body.

The Spine huffed more steam. “I can’t at least be ‘Missus the Spine’? I have to be Missus Nesbitt?”

"Well, yeah, Spine. ‘Missus Th’ Spine’ just sounds silly." Rabbit replied, sipping his water.

"Hey, guys, I hate to say it—"

"Say what?" The Jon asked, sipping his water. "You aren’t gonna talk about how we head-napped you, are you?"

"Because that would make things really awkward," Rabbit added.

The Spine sighed. “You could have just asked me to join your tea party, you know.”

"Uh-uh," The Jon said. "We talked about it, but we both thought you’d say no, and we didn’t want to have the tea party without you. Tea parties are more fun with three." He nodded decisively at this, like he’d made some kind of unarguable point. Perhaps he had.

"Yeah? I’m sorry you feel that way." The Spine had to admit to himself, yes, he probably wouldn’t have agreed to attend the tea party, so he understood why they had done it. He couldn’t exactly condone this course of action, but he could at least try to make the best of it. "But that just makes another problem."

"What’s that?" Rabbit asked curiously.

"Well… I don’t have my body, and I can’t control this one, so I can’t drink my wa— ah, my tea."

"Oh!" The Jon and Rabbit looked sheepishly at one another. "We didn’t think of that."

"Tell you what," The Spine said. "If one of you takes me back to my body, I promise I’ll come back to the tea party. Sound okay?"

The other automatons looked at him.

"…You promise?" The Jon asked.

"I promise," The Spine replied. "I can’t go back on it, I don’t have any fingers to cross right now."

"Okay," said Rabbit. "I’ll take you back up to where I left the rest of you." He picked up The Spine’s head, paper crown and all, and carried him up to the living room.

"Sorry about this, Th’ Spine," he said as the silver bot reconnected his head to the rest of himself.

The Spine stood and fiddled with his neck until he was sure his head was on straight. “It’s okay, Rabbit. But next time, you only have to ask, okay?”

Rabbit nodded remorsefully. “Okay.”

"Glad we’ve cleared that up," The Spine said, then he slid an arm around Rabbit’s shoulders. "Now, come on, Sir Rabbit. I bet Princess The Jon is still waiting for us to attend her tea party."


	5. Finger-Painting

"Th’ Spine!"

The silver bot looked up from his book and the sound of his name. “What is it, Rabbit?”

A coppery grin and a pair of mismatched photo-receptors gleamed at him from the doorway. Rabbit was obviously very excited about something. The Spine noticed something slightly unusual, but before he could ask about it, Rabbit had bounded into the room and begun to tug on his arm.

"C’mon, Spine, come and see what we m-m-made!"

'We?' The Spine allowed himself to be dragged from the sitting room. If Rabbit said 'we,' it usually meant that he and The Jon had teamed up to make something. That was all well and good, but the last time it had happened they hadn't been able to get all of the cheese out of the seventh living room for weeks. They still occasionally found bits of moldy tomato in the couch cushions.

Thankfully, Rabbit was pulling him toward one of the rooms that had been built specifically for The Jon and Rabbit’s robotic shenanigans. The Jon’s head was peeking around the doorway, grinning excitedly.

"I g-g-got him!" Rabbit cried, rather unnecessarily The Spine thought. He noticed, before The Jon’s head vanished around the doorway, that the golden bot also looked unusual, and he began to piece together what it was they could have made. Before he could follow that line of thought, Rabbit maneuvered himself behind the silver bot and propelled him through the doorway into the affectionately named "wreck room."

The creation took up the entirety of the back wall. The Jon stood off to one side, beaming proudly, and Rabbit went over to join him. He looked less excited now, and he was creaking nervously, but there was still a small, apprehensive smile on his lips.

The Spine looked at the mural for a long minute, taking in all the details. It was beautiful, he had to admit, with it’s large swirls of color and shapes. Beautiful, and very springy, even if he couldn’t quite figure out why that was. Or what it was.

The Jon and Rabbit stepped in front of him, both of their smiles gone, eyeing him nervously.

"Your thoughts, The Spine?" Jon asked.

"It’s very nice," The Spine replied, and he meant it. "But there’s one thing I don’t understand."

"What?"

"There’s no blue in it."

Jon sniffed, then started to giggle. “Of course not, The Spine.”

Rabbit joined his brother in laughter. “That w-w-would be silly, Spine!”

"Ah." The Spine looked at the other two robots, who were at this point laughing quite hard. "Then-?" A particularly loud guffaw from the Jon silenced his question. He waited for them to quiet down for a minute or two, then gave up. He blinked once, his photo-receptors made a slight ‘ _click_ ,’ and he turned and left Rabbit and The Jon behind. They were holding each other and almost falling over with glee, and they didn’t see him go. He doubted that they would mind anyway.

The Spine grinned to himself and sighed. He’d let them have their private joke, whatever it was. There was obviously some story behind the blue paint that he would not be privy to. Though he did have to wonder how they had managed to get themselves covered in it without getting any on the wall.

\----

Later, in his own room, The Spine recalled the image his photo-receptors had snapped before he left. The image flickered to the forefront of his mind, and he smiled.

Two robots, one copper, one golden, laughing heartily, covered from head to foot in blue paint.

It wasn’t a bad shot, really, The Spine thought to himself as he lightly sketched the outline of his brothers onto a canvas. He worked for half an hour on getting the details exactly right. Then he poured some paint onto a pallet, lifted his brush, and began a painting of his own.


	6. The Built-Day Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for SPG's collective birthday. January 28, 2013.

She walked past the gate up to the doorless entryway. She hadn’t been to this house yet, but when the agency told her where she was going, they had suggested that she clock out early and take her own car. That didn’t seem to bode well; they’d obviously lost some people because of this house. Either that, or they didn’t want to pay her for the drive. No matter, she was just glad her shift was over. All she had to do was deliver this telegram and she would be done for the day.

Lacking a better option, she knocked on the doorframe, shifting a bit uneasily on the porch. She’d had a feeling about the - what had the agency called it, the manor? - when she pulled up and noticed the blue light emanating from the top windows. She also wasn’t sure what she was supposed to see through the doorway, but she felt like darkness wasn’t it.

A minute passed. She knocked on the doorframe again, debating whether or not to go home. A few times before she had accidentally been sent to an empty house. The standard policy was to leave after two minutes if no one answered the door. Of course, that usually assumed that there  _was_  a door to answer.

There was a sudden light in the darkness, bright blue, followed quickly by bright green. As the spots of light advanced toward the door, she suddenly realized that they were eyes.

"He- um, hello," she said to the eyes, forcing a cheery smile and berating herself for not keeping up her professionalism. She glanced down at the instructions in her hand. "Singing telegram for Rabbit Walter?"

"For m-m-me?" The eyes blinked, then the being attached to them stepped forward to reveal itself. She tried not to stare; the robot (for that was definitely what it was) was very tall and coppery, and it creaked and hissed as it moved. It was a marvel, and she couldn’t help but appreciate how dapper it looked, dressed as it was in a nice vest and very spiffy-looking hat.

Well, there was nothing for it. She took a deep breath and began to sing, to the tune of Camptown Races*:

_"Sent this song to celebrate, doo-dah, doo-dah_   
_For your age you still look great, Happy Birthday_

_The Spine wishes you a happy day_   
_A birthday wish to Rabbit the Happy Harmony Way!_

_Do not worry or doubt, doo-dah, doo-dah_   
_Life’s been fun, so don’t stress out, Happy Birthday_

_The Spine wishes you a happy day_   
_A birthday wish to Rabbit the Happy Harmony Way!_

_Enjoy your day, may it last, doo-dah, doo-dah_   
_Hope your birthday is a blast, Happy Birthday_

_The Spine wishes you a happy day_   
_A birthday wish to Rabbit the Happy Harmony Way!”_

She stopped, took a bow, and looked up. The robot - Rabbit - stood looking at her for a moment, mouth hanging wide. She couldn’t tell, but she thought he - She? He? He sounded male, at least - was happy.

Rabbit snapped his jaw shut with a whirr and hopped up and down like his namesake, clapping and laughing with delight. “Oh, that was  _g-g-great!_  Oh! Wait right there, I’ll be _right_  back!” He dashed back through the doorway, yelling as he went, “Spine! Spine, c’mere!”

She waited for another couple of minutes, and the robot was back, this time dragging another one by the arm. This one was even taller, and silver. It was also decidedly more human-looking. She could only assume that this was The Spine.

"Spine, did you get me the telegram?" Rabbit asked.

The silver robot raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Did you like it?”

Rabbit jumped up and down a little more, then hugged the silver robot, who looked slightly surprised, but then hugged him back. “Thank you, Th’ Spine! It’s the best b-b-built-day present ever!”

"Even better than the new toaster?"

Rabbit let go of the Spine at once. “No. Not better than that.” The copper robot turned to face her, beaming. “Thanks so much for your delivery! You sounded very pretty.”

"Oh," she said, blushing slightly, "thank you."

"Do you want to come to the party?"

What? “The… party?”

The Spine glanced at Rabbit. “Rabbit, I’m sure she has places to be…”

"B-b-but it’d be nice to invite her! Can’t we invite her?" The mismatched eyes seemed pleading. "Do you want to come to our party? Or are you too busy?"

"Uh… I, um, I just- no, I’m not busy…" she stammered.

"So you can come to the party, then?"

"I… suppose." She could stay for a little while. After all, she was already clocked out at work. What was the harm?

The copper bot seized her wrist. “Great! I’ll take you up there!” And without another word she was pulled into the manor, The Spine following behind.

——

They had said it was the third ballroom. Rabbit told her it was the second biggest one. She didn’t want to see the biggest one, because this room was enormous. It comfortably housed one grand piano, several tables full of food and motor oil, and an ungodly amount of large piñatas.

"Th-th-thirty piñatas, exactly," Rabbit said as they stood admiring them. They had been the first thing he had dragged her over to see. Obviously he had made them himself, and he was very proud of them. To be fair, they were very impressive. A large red dragon, a burrito, a horse with six legs… Though the grandest by far was the quesadilla.

She was at a loss as to how precisely one made a large quesadilla look so good, but it certainly did. She’d have been willing to sink her teeth into it if someone had asked.

Her stomach growled. “Hungry?” asked The Spine, who had sidled up on her right. He handed her a sandwich when she nodded. “I hope you enjoy it. I don’t know exactly what’s in it, but it should be good.”

She nibbled at the sandwich, then wondered how she would ever be able to stand Subway again. Any sandwich after this one would be as tasteless as water. “It’s… amazing.”

The Spine essayed a small grin at her. “Hatchworth’ll be happy to hear that. He’s been working overtime getting all of them ready.”

"Hatchworth?" she asked, as she took a large bite of her sandwich.

"The robot with the mustache over by the punchbowls." The Spine indicated the aforementioned robot, who was looking at the three of them with something approaching apprehension. When he noticed they were looking at him, he approached.

"Hello," he said, and she couldn’t help but notice that his voice sounded much more automated than the other two robots she had met thus far. "How is the sandwich?"

Her mouth was full, so she gave him a thumbs up. Hatchworth’s mustache twitched as he smiled. “Good. I did of course hope that my hatch was still functioning properly, and could give you something that you would enjoy.”

She swallowed. “Hatch?”

"The hatch in my chest."

The shock must have showed on her face, because Rabbit, who had until this point been regarding the piñatas in thoughtful silence, chimed in, “I d-d-don’t think that she was expecting that, Hatchy. Maybe you should keep your hatch in the family, huh? Sounds like a good idea.”

The mustachioed robot nodded. “Perhaps. The Spine, is it a good idea to not tell people about my hatch?”

The Spine sighed. “Yes, Hatchworth, it’s a good idea. It’s best if you don’t think about the hatch too much, Miss,” he said, this last statement directed toward her.

She nodded. She’d just try not to think about the fact that there was a sandwich producing hatch inside of a robot’s chest. Yeah, that was an easy thing not to think about. Except that it wasn’t. She shook her head slightly, then wandered over to the punchbowls, leaving the robots behind her.

She took the opportunity to look around, something that Rabbit, in all of his enthusiasm, had not really let her do. The ballroom wasn’t exactly full of people, but there were enough there to make it qualify as a party.

There was a woman with blue hair, and she was talking to a large… thing with a sideways eye. Over next to the piano were two men; a cool looking guy with dreadlocks and another wearing a purple tank top. Near the sandwich tables were three others, two women dressed in white, and one man with short blonde hair. And there was a guy with a keyhole mask near the doorway speaking with a kind looking older woman.

She wished that she knew someone, but the only names that she knew were those of the robots. And the robots seemed like the only ones willing to talk to her.

She filled a glass with punch and wished she hadn’t agreed to come to this party. It seemed a bit awkward. But at least she didn’t have to pay for dinner, that was a plus… right? Or was it rude to take advantage of their hospitality when she wasn’t really part of the celebration, such as it was? She ruminated on this and drank her punch.

"Hi." She looked up. The purple tank top guy was filling a glass from the punch bowl and smiling at her. He was even taller than The Spine, though not by much. "Who are you?"

"I’m… I’m just a guest. Rabbit invited me," she said, by way of explanation. "Who are you?"

"Well, if we’re being vague, I’m just a guest, too." He grinned. It was a charming grin, and it made her feel sort of fluttery. "I’m Michael. Michael Reed."

"It’s nice to meet you, Michael Reed."

"Likewise." He offered his hand. "What’s your name?"

"It’s-"

"Michael, why’s the piano so quiet?" the guy with dreadlocks called.

Michael chuckled. “I’ll be over in a second, Steve.” He made for the piano, then angled his head and gestured for her to follow. She did, wondering how the two of them knew the robots in the first place.

As they passed by the collection of piñatas, she heard The Spine ask Rabbit why there were so many.

_"Jon likes piñatas."_

_"Rabbit, Jon’s-"_

_"He’ll be here."_

She wondered at the exchange, slowing down to see if she could catch more, but then she caught the Spine’s eye and hurried to catch up with Michael instead.

The guy with dreads - Steve - leaned on the piano and tapped his foot. “You’ve got another girl following you, man. They just flock to you, don’t they?”

Michael smiled and shrugged, setting his drink on the piano and settling himself at the bench.

"Is it because of the piano? Or the guitar? Just the whole singer/songwriter thing?" Steve didn’t sound particularly curious. She thought he might just be trying to rile Michael up. It didn’t work.

"I don’t know, Steve." Michael flexed his fingers and looked at her. "Any requests?"

"Uh…" She racked her brain. Nothing much there but telegram jingles. She mentally cursed her job. "Free Bird?" Steve laughed, and she shrugged. "I don’t know. Something fun, I guess."

Michael didn’t disappoint. She’d never heard the song he played before, but it was definitely fun. She bopped her head in time to the beat, and noted that other people were doing the same. Rabbit in particular seemed to be enjoying himself, wiggling his hips and shaking his shoulders. The two ladies in white were dancing with each other, doing a sort of swing step, and the man with blonde hair was tapping his wrists to the beat, as if he was playing imaginary drums. She watched them all for a while, then went off to get more punch.

The Spine was leaning against the punch table, talking quietly to the man in the keyhole mask that she had seen earlier. “…I know that he’s waiting for The Jon, but don’t you think that it would be better-?”

The masked man shook his head. “I wish I thought so, Spine, but we both know that Jon can be-“

The conversation cut short when they noticed her. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on whatever it was they were talking about, so she payed them the courtesy of ignoring them completely.

"Do what you think is best, The Spine," the man said, and then he walked toward the blue haired woman and the beast-thing with the sideways eye.

The Spine sighed, then turned to her. “How are you enjoying the party?” he asked, a little forcibly, as though he was trying to change the subject.

"It’s nice," she replied, filling her glass and leaning back against the table to observe the room with him. "Better with music."

The Spine nodded. “I notice you met Michael and Steve. What do you think of them?”

"They’re nice. Michael’s really good at piano."

"He’s good at a lot of things." There was no resentment in that statement, just fact. She wondered if robots could even feel resentment or jealousy. She looked again at the two girls in white, who were now taking turns twirling around with Rabbit and Steve. The Spine seemed to be watching them, too. There was the trace of a smile on his face.

"Who was that man you were talking to?"

"Hm?"

"The one in the mask, with red hair."

"That’s Peter Walter the Sixth. He’s talking to Wanda and Norman right now."

"And who’s Jon?"

The Spine said nothing for a few moments. He sipped a glass of water that she hadn’t noticed. “Jon… The Jon is another automaton that used to live here. He left a few months ago.” He cast a sidelong glance at her. “That’s really all you need to know.”

She nodded and looked back at the dancers. It was just the girls and Steve now, Rabbit having gone off by himself to lean against the doorframe. The Spine watched as the young woman with shorter hair curtsied to Steve and started to dance with him. A small portion of steam escaped his lips, and whatever trace of a smile he’d had was completely gone.

The woman eventually stopped dancing with Steve and came over to get some punch as well. She didn’t say anything to the two of them, but she gave The Spine a small smile, which he returned, and which stayed as she went back toward the dance floor.

"You should ask her to dance."

He shook his head.

"Why not? I think she wants to dance with you."

The Spine sighed and walked over toward Rabbit, leaving her alone by the punchbowl. She wondered if it was something that she had said. She watched the dancing for a little longer, and giggled when the two girls in white managed to get Hatchworth out onto the floor. While he wasn’t exactly clumsy, he certainly wasn’t comfortable cutting the rug, as it were, which made for quite a spectacle.

Her gaze eventually began to drift around the room, and she noticed the masked man - Peter - looking in her direction. She looked down at her punch glass, noticed it was empty, and then looked back up to see that he was still looking at her. She set he glass down on the table and started for the doorway. Suddenly she felt like she was gate-crashing the party, that she didn’t belong there.

She had forgotten that Rabbit and The Spine were there. She didn’t want to pass them - Rabbit would surely ask why she was leaving so soon - so she leaned against the wall near the doorway and tried to remain unobtrusive. Unfortunately, that meant listening in on what the two robots were saying to each other.

"-All I’m saying, Rabbit, is that you can still enjoy the party."

"I  _h-h-have_  been, Th’ Spine. But I’m not gonna enjoy it anymore until The Jon gets here. He’s late enough as is.”

She could see part of The Spine’s face, though he was mostly blocked by Rabbit. There was a soft look in his green eyes, a look that you wouldn’t expect to see on a robotic face. “Rabbit… Maybe he’s not-“

"No, n-n-no, Spine, he promised." Rabbit’s shoulders were set and stubborn.

"You know Jon, Rabbit." The Spine tried to place a hand on the other robot’s shoulders, but Rabbit twitched and he retracted it. "He could have lost track of time. You know that time is kind of funny in Kazoo-"

"He promised us, Spine." Rabbit’s voice was low and tight with emotion. "He promised he’d be home for the party."

"Rabbit, I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe he-"

"HE PROMISED! HE- he-!" Silence. Complete silence. No piano, no dancing, no talking. Everyone was looking at Rabbit. He glanced around, wide-eyed, like he’d forgotten other people were there. An unnatural sounding mechanical sob issued from his throat, and then he turned and bolted from the room.

"Rabbit?" The Spine called after him.

"Just leave me al-l-lone!" came the reply. And then all was quiet.

——

The next few minutes were very somber. Michael tried playing the piano some more, but he didn’t seem to enjoy himself like before. The entire atmosphere of the room had plummeted, and all the conversation seemed subdued to the point where it was hardly happening at all.

She watched all of this from her post by the door, where she had stayed after Rabbit’s outburst. There wasn’t much else for her to do, and she felt as though leaving wouldn’t be the best idea right now. But she couldn’t see what she could do or say to make things better.

Hatchworth eventually wandered over to join her. “What are you doing alone over here?”

"I’m… I don’t know,  I’m trying to think," she sighed. "I know that there’s not really anything I can do, but I’m still sorry that I can’t do  _anything._ " She heard herself say it, and giggled slightly.

"What is amusing?"

"I just realized, I don’t really know anybody here, but I’m still sad that I can’t make them happy." She smiled wanly at Hatchworth. "Maybe it’s because Rabbit invited me, and now he’s not here, but I feel like I should do something. Since it’s his party."

The robot shook his head. “Actually, it is also mine and The Spine’s built-day party. We all celebrate it on the same day.”

"You do? Well, that just makes me feel worse, since I only thought it was Rabbit’s."

Hatchworth blinked. “Oh. That was not my intention. I had hoped that it would make you feel better.” They stood in silence for a moment. “For what it is worth, I am glad that you are here. You seem very nice, from what little I know of you.”

"Well… Thank you, Hatchworth. That’s very nice of you to say." She pushed herself off of the wall. "Do you know, that  _did_  make me feel a bit better.”

The robot smiled at her. “That is good. I shall endeavor to cheer the others up as well. Would you care to join me?”

She considered the idea. “No, I don’t think so. I’ll just try to… find Rabbit. It’d be good to know where he went.”

Hatchworth nodded. “Good luck to you, then. I will let The Spine know where you have gone, in case he needs to come and find you.”

She nodded her thanks and turned to leave. She had almost gone out the door when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"By the way," said Hatchworth, "don’t sit on the red armchair."

——

She wandered the dark hallways for several minutes, wanting to call for Rabbit, but also not wanting to draw attention from anything else. The manor seemed far more expansive without a robot there to guide her. Expansive and dark. It almost felt like anything could jump out of the shadows.

Then, further down a secluded hallway, she heard clicks and whirrs that she thought might be Rabbit’s movement. Slowly and quietly, she made her way toward the sounds, focusing intently on trying to hear how far ahead they were. She was so focused, in fact, that she didn’t hear the whirrs and clicks coming from behind her until they were almost close enough to be emanating from herself.

She stopped, and slowly looked over her shoulder.

"Boo!" said the golden robot who had been sneaking up behind her.

She let out a small scream.

"Did I scare you?" the robot asked, his blue eyes staring very earnestly at her. She couldn’t tell if he was delighted by the idea, shocked by it, or a bit of both.

She nodded.

"All right! Sorry." The robot held out his hand. She offered hers and he shook it enthusiastically. "Nice to meet you! Have you seen Rabbit anywhere?"

"I- I was just looking for him. I think he might be down this way." She gestured to where she had heard the whirring noises.

"Wonderful!" the robot exclaimed. "Let’s go and surprise him!" He pulled her down the dark hallway where, yes, she could now hear Rabbit’s mechanical sighs amongst the whirring of gears.

"Wait, who are you?"

"Oh!" The robot stopped, turned, and she almost ran into him. "Sorry! I should introduce myself. I’m The Jon, automaton explorer and erstwhile mayor of Biscuit Town."

So, this was Jon, the missing robot. She barely had time to process this before he was pulling her down the hallway again, slower and stealthier this time. They came upon the doorway Rabbit’s various noises were coming from and Jon stopped again and beckoned her forward, putting a finger to his lips.

"Knock," he mouthed, and made the motion with his hand. She did as he asked, knocking on the doorframe.

"G-g-go away," said Rabbit.

The Jon poked his head through the doorway. “Rabbit?”

She heard a creaking sound. “Th’ Jon?”

The golden robot stepped fully into the doorway. “I’m back!”

 _CLUNK!_  Rabbit flung himself fully onto the Jon, sending both of them sprawling into the hallway. “Y-y-you’re home!” The two bots were hugging and laughing, and Rabbit was sniffling.

"I m-m-missed you so much, buddy!"

"I missed you, too, Rabbit! I - Say, why are your eyes leaking?"

"Oh," Rabbit said as he and The Jon pulled one another up, "no reason. S-s-say, have you been to the party yet?"

"No," came the reply, "I was looking for you. QWERTY said that you would be here."

"Well, here I was! Now, you’ve gotta see the party. It’s not as good as when you were here to help plan it, but I did my best." Rabbit hopped up and down as he led them down the hallway. "Ooh! There’s a bunch of piñatas!"

She couldn’t see The Jon’s face, but she could hear the huge grin in his answer. “You still have piñatas?”

“‘Course I do, I know how much you love piñatas! There’s not as many as usual, only, like, thirty, but that’s what happens when you’re not around.”

"Oh, thirty is a good-sized number, Rabbit…"

The two robot’s excited voices echoed off of the walls as the trio made their way back to the third ballroom.

——

Everyone was happy to see The Jon. He was equally happy to see all of them. Multiple hugs were given to everyone, even the people he didn’t know. She was fairly certain that she got three hugs total, not counting several group hugs that happened through the rest of the evening.

Most of the party after that was a happy blur. There was music, punch, cake, dancing and lots and lots of piñatas. She couldn’t have said what her favorite part of the party was. Maybe it was chanting and clapping with everyone when Hatchworth managed the swing that broke open the quesadilla piñata. Possibly it was watching The Spine waltz with the short-haired Walter girl, and seeing the happy smiles on their faces. Perhaps it was when the cake was passed around and The Jon buried Rabbit’s face in the leftovers, which eventually led to a huge food fight which Peter decidedly won.

But the party eventually ended. Most of the humans ended up collapsed on various couches, and the automatons weren’t very energetic either. Jon had been coerced into staying until morning, and he and Rabbit were huddled in a corner trying to stay out of stasis for “j-j-just a few more minutes, Th’ Sp-sp-Spine.”

She was almost falling over with tiredness, lying out on a couch and debating whether or not to ask if she could stay. The Spine offered her a blanket and breakfast in the morning.

"Really? You wouldn’t mind?"

The silver robot shook his head. “Not at all. We’ve all had a long night. And you don’t mind staying, do you?”

"I… suppose not." She yawned and tucked herself in. She could stay… for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *modified singing telegram lyrics taken from Anna's Florist and Gifts website


	7. First Word

He hadn’t been around for very long. He was still trying to decipher the world around him. Pappy — Well, some people called him Peter, but Peter  _was_  his Pappy — kept tinkering with him, making little “touch-ups” here and there. There had been a lot of those, but he didn’t mind. Pappy would talk to him while he was working, and that made them both happy.

"You’re the first of your kind, you know," he’d say. "You’ll be well loved."

He liked that idea. Being loved was a good thing, he knew. He knew it because of the way Pappy would talk about Miss Delilah, and how he loved her. Pappy’s voice always got soft and tender when he talked about Miss Delilah. She made him feel happy, because he loved her.

If love made people happy, then he was very happy to be “well loved.”

——

Pappy was showing him the garden. He decided that he liked the garden. When it was sunny, Pappy said, he could come out and walk around and look at the flowers. Pappy even said that he could try and grow flowers of his own, if he didn’t get too dirty. “Because if that gets into your gears, that means a tune up. And that takes time away from working on the next one of you.”

He wanted to ask if this “next one” would be allowed a garden plot, if the “next one” would be like him exactly. If the “next one” would be well loved like he was. But he didn’t know how to ask. He would have to learn soon. He could only get by so far without words. Maybe if he tried, he could learn to talk like Pappy did.

He decided to try and say something. But what?

There was a rustle to his left. He saw a fat white body among the flowers. It had long ears and a sort of… sort of… well, its tail looked puffy. He tapped Pappy’s shoulder and pointed, because he didn’t know what it was.

Pappy looked at the fluffy thing. “It’s a rabbit.”

A… rabbit. Rabbit. “R-r-r-rab-bbit.” Well, it sounded a bit hoarse, slightly rusty. Not at all like Pappy, but that could be improved, surely.

Pappy was looking at him. There was a surprised, delighted smile on his face, tinged with no small amount of pride. “Yes! Yes, that’s right! Well done!”

"R-rabbit," he said again, trying not to stretch the word out so much.

Pappy nodded excitedly. “Exactly! Well I mean, it seems like there’s a bit of a stutter there, but that’s still very good. Very good… Rabbit.”


	8. Zombies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For whatever reason, this has been my most popular fic so far.

The third living room was not The Spine’s favorite place to read. There was another, one with a window overlooking the garden, that he liked far more. But today he couldn’t go there, on account of the fact that it was being fumigated for demonic chairs. So, in the third living room he stayed, reading.

The floor creaked outside the doorway, but he payed it no mind, engrossed as he was in his book. The description was wonderful, and the story compelling, but he had a feeling that the climax wouldn’t be as satisfying as he hoped.

Rabbit flopped down next to him on the couch with a soft  _'thump.'_  The living room was done being fumigated, then. After briefly considering moving up to the other room, The Spine acknowledged his brother with a glance, which was returned, and a nod before turning back to his book once more.

They stayed like that for some time, neither one talking, Rabbit occasionally creaking, but for the most part quietly enjoying the other’s company.

Then Rabbit sighed. At first The Spine thought it was nothing, but then it happened again.

The silver automaton glanced over and saw Rabbit, lying back on the couch, arms stretched out in front of him, hands limp. He had no expression on his face, which struck The Spine as odd, but not unprecedented.

But something was probably going to happen soon. He marked his place in his book as a precaution.

Rabbit sat up, slowly, arms still outstretched, and fastened his mouth on The Spine’s shoulder.  _'Clank.'_

"Nrr yrr r zrrmbrr, Sprrn," he said through a mouthful of fabric.

The Spine slowly turned his head to look at the copper bot clamped on his shoulder, teeth grinding ever so slightly against the fabric of his vest. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Rabbit released his shoulder and looked up at him earnestly. “You’re a zombie, Spine. ‘Cause I bit ya.”

Silence. Then The Spine slowly raised his arms to chest height and held them stiff. ‘Uuuuugh,” he moaned.

"Braaaaaiiins," Rabbit moaned in return.

The two of them did not discuss what they would do next; they already knew what would happen. The two of them wandered down the hallway, moaning and looking for new victims.

The first that they came across was Michael. The Spine elected to infect him, as he wasn’t sure Rabbit would be gentle enough. A soft chomp on the shoulder got the engineer to turn around, startled. “What?”

"You’re a zombie now, Mister Reed," The Spine said solemnly as Rabbit nodded behind him.

"Y-y-you gotta help us infect more people, Mistah Reed," the copper bot added, not quite as solemnly.

A second’s hesitation, and then Michael was up to join them. The pack roamed the halls, assimilating all in their path. Steve (Michael got to bite him), Walter Girl Paige (Rabbit insisted on biting her; he was surprisingly gentle, and she giggled when he told her she had to be a zombie), and Hatchworth (the game stopped for a few minutes while they explained exactly what it was zombies were, but Hatchy seemed game once he got the idea).

They eventually all found themselves, the moaning, lurching, mass that they were, outside of Peter VI’s twentieth study. The masked man stuck his head out of the doorway as they made their slow way toward it. ”What are you doing?”

There was a pause. The group looked at each other, suddenly unsure of their explanation. The Spine was the first to speak.

"…Nothing, Peter… Nothing."


	9. Initiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Michael and Steve get into some kind of mischief. The robots have to bail them out for some reason. (Prompted)

"Guys, do we really have to do this?" Matt asked, looking up at the moonlit manor.

"You’re not chickening out on us now, are you?" Steve stuck his head over Matt’s left shoulder wearing an adventurous grin. "Everyone’s done it, it’s all part of the initiation."

Michael, on Matt’s other side, pulled a flashlight out of his backpack. “It’s fine,” he assured, “we know this place really well, we won’t wake anything up.”

Matt remained unconvinced. “We all have our own places. Why do we have to sleep over here?”

"You’re not really part of the band until you’ve slept over at least once."

"But  _this?_ ” _  
_

"This," Steve said as he pulled Matt by the arm through the gates and up to the manor door, "is just the way it’s done. Every new member has to sneak in. It’s not that dangerous." Matt balked a little at this. He would just as soon have had it not be dangerous at all. Then again, Walter Manor wasn’t exactly the safest place to be even during the day.

The three of them entered the foyer. Matt noted that it didn’t look all that different than it did during the day, but the thought fled his mind as Steve tugged him up a flight of stairs, Michael following close behind, flicking the flashlight on. The beam lit their way up, up, up, higher than Matt thought the manor could possibly go. He always knew the place was massive, but the labyrinthine expanse they were sneaking through seemed to dwarf the outside.

Eventually they stopped climbing, and the three of them panted silently on the landing. Steve, the first to recover, gestured with his head that the other two should follow him down the dark hallway.

They eventually came to a large living room, empty except for a couch and a red armchair that didn’t match the rest of the decor. Michael shrugged his backpack off his shoulders and pulled out a sleeping bag. Steve did the same. Matt had not brought a backpack, and so lay down on the couch and wrapped his coat around himself like a blanket, and tossed the other two some pillows from off the couch.

After they had settled in, Matt spoke in a sort of slumber party whisper. “Hey.”

"Yeah?" came Steve’s voice from the floor.

"Who started this?"

Michael shifted. “I guess I did,” he said, “I was the first one who did it, and I took Steve and Sam to do it, too. Just kind of happened, really, but it’s part of the initiation now.”

"Yep," Steve agreed. "Welcome to the band, Matt."

Matt couldn’t help grinning at that.

The floor creaked outside the door, and a pair of small green lights appeared, illuminating the darkness of the living room. Matt sat up and gave the lights a guilty look, but Michael and Steve just waved unconcernedly.

"I thought you might do this tonight," The Spine said softly.

Michael propped himself up on his elbows and shrugged. “It’s part of the initiation. We had to.”

The Spine nodded, and turned to leave, speaking over his shoulder. ”Don’t stay up too late, guys, or I won’t make excuses for you in the morning.”

"Goodnight, The Spine," Steve said as Michael lowered himself to the floor once more.

"Goodnight."

"Sorry about this, Spine," Matt added.

The robot paused. “There’s no need to be sorry.” He looked over his shoulder once more, staring Matt straight in the eye, and smiled.

"Welcome to the band, Matt Smith."


	10. Video Store

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Merker go to the Last Video Rental Store on Earth and argue about which movie to rent. (Prompted)

The Red Box was out of order, Netflix had canceled their accounts due to a misunderstanding, and Michael wanted to watch a movie legally if it killed them. Matt, frankly, was rather annoyed that he was stuck in the passengers seat of the car while Michael drove around on this little adventure, but he couldn’t really blame anyone but himself for the current predicament. He was the one who had suggested they watch a movie, after all.

Why Michael didn’t want to watch a movie that he owned was a mystery. He had good movies, but apparently he wasn’t in the mood for any of them. So, they drove, making the trip to what Matt thought might be the last rental place in all of San Diego, if not the world. A location that was coming up on their right, as it happened.

Michael pulled into the nearly empty parking lot and the two of them got out of the car and walked in, one after the other. The two of them simultaneously pulled out a pair of shades each, making an entrance like the Blues Brother’s hippy-ish counterparts.

The girl at the counter raised her eyebrows. “Hi, welcome to the Last Video Rental Store on Earth. Let me know if you guys need help finding anything.”

Michael nodded at her, then proceeded over toward the fantasy section of the store. Matt followed, pulling off his shades and sighing. “Kid stuff? Really?”

Michael scowled over his shoulder and pulled off his own shades. “It’s not kid stuff! And what would you watch, anyway?”

"Something with action." Matt pointed toward the much larger section of the store labeled ‘Action.’ "There’s more selection there, anyway, and it’s  _definitely_  not kid stuff. Unless you like watching Barbie as a fairy princess or something.”

Michael’s cheeks turned a little pink. “No! I have action movies at home, I don’t want to watch them.”

"We don’t have to watch one of  _those_. We can watch one of the ones they have here.”

"I don’t want to watch an action movie, Matt." Michael perused the shelves and picked up a DVD called  _Legend_. “We can watch this. It’s by Ridley Scott, he’s good.”

Matt huffed. “I’d rather see something that’s less sword and sorcery and more guns and ammo. How about  _The Hurt Locker_? I’ve heard that’s really good, but I haven’t seen it.”

"That’s not action," Michael said, "not really."

"It’s probably better than your silly fantasy movie."

Michael glared at him. “I’m getting this one.”

"I want to get  _The Hurt Locker_.” _  
_

Michael snorted. “If you want to get that, fine. Don’t expect me to pay for it, Mister I-forgot-my-wallet.”

Matt blinked. “How do you know I forgot my wallet?”

"I saw it on the hall table," Michael said, striding toward the counter. "Suck it up, Matt, we’re getting this one."

Matt grumbled all the way home.


	11. Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt meets Peter Walter VI and struggles very hard not to ask about the obvious. (Prompted by geeknip)

Matt had gotten along well with Michael. He’d gotten along well with Steve. He’d even gotten along well with the robots, and he hadn’t been too afraid of the manor. And he was a good drummer. It was almost too good to be true. He had gone through most of the hiring process and he hand’t run away screaming. Yet.

But then there was Peter VI. He hadn’t met Peter VI. And that was one thing that had to happen. As Michael led Matt to Peter’s fourth study on the ground floor, he prayed that Matt wouldn’t make a fool out of himself. Finding a new drummer was harder than anyone realized, and nobody wanted to let this one go.

"Any advice about this?" Matt asked nervously.

"Um," Michael replied. He thought about Peter VI for a moment, going through all of things that made the engineer tick. "Just…" the doorway was just head of them. Michael lowered his voice. "It’s just like a job interview, okay? Try to be professional about it, and… Uh, don’t mention the obvious thing.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Michael patted his shoulder reassuringly. “You’ll know what I mean,” he whispered, then he knocked on the doorframe. “Peter? I brought Matt.”

"Send him in," came a voice from inside.

Michael indicated with his head. “I’ll be down the hall, so when you guys get done, you can come find me,” he said softly as Matt passed through the doorway.

Matt nodded and stepped into the study. It was a fairly small and cozy room, with a desk and a tall lamp and several bookshelves, and two chairs. Matt sat in the straight backed one in front of the desk, and across from him, in the leather armchair, sat Peter Walter VI. At once, Matt knew what the obvious thing was.

"So," Peter said, folding his hands across the desktop, "why do you want this position?"

"Uh." Matt tried very hard to look the other man in the face, but ended up staring over his left shoulder. He was always told to look his interviewer in the eye, but how could he do that when there  _were_  no eyes? “I… I want it because I enjoy playing music. And I like this band. I like the people - and robots - in it.”

Peter nodded. “Are you prepared to learn a thing or two about engineering, should something go wrong?”

Matt nodded. “Yes. Michael has agreed to teach me about each automaton’s structures so I can do basic repair work in case of a malfunction.”

The red haired man sat up slightly. “When did that happen?”

"When I asked him about it. I thought it was best to learn how to deal with… um, with trouble." Matt couldn’t see Peter expression, but he thought the other man might have been impressed.

"Right," Peter said thoughtfully. He paused for a few moments. "Well, that settles that, then. Do you have any questions?"

 _Oh_ , did Matt have questions. He knew better than to ask any of them, so he racked his brain for something else.  _‘_ _Stay professional, Matt, stay professional.’_  “What, uh… what’s my insurance like on this job?”

"Basic healthcare coverage, plus extras, given that this is a bit more unusual than your average job," Peter said. "We’ll cover any injuries you may incur while on the job, and replace any limbs that need replacing."

"Replace limbs?" Matt held in a shudder.

"We’ve never had to before," Peter said amusedly, "but we thought it was a good offer, because there’s always a chance of that when you hang around Walters too long."

"Oh." Matt could see that very clearly, but he resolved not to think too much about it. Or at least he would  _try_  not think too much about it.

"Anything else?"

Matt blinked. “Um… how likely is it that an accident  _will_  happen? And how should I prepare for one?”

"Very likely," the other man said, "but the exact nature of any given accident is unknown, so I couldn’t tell you how to prepare for one. Just stay alert, I suppose."

"And is there anything else I should be aware of?"

Peter contemplated this for a few moments. “Don’t ask my father about his eyes. And don’t be afraid of Norman, he’s fairly harmless. Don’t bother me when I’m working. And stay out of the red armchair at all times.”

Matt nodded. “Okay then. That’s all my questions.”

"Alright," Peter stood, as did Matt. They shook hands. "Someone will let you know in about two weeks whether you’ve been hired for the position. Michael will show you out."

Matt walked out of that room, continued down the hallway for a moment, then sagged against the wall.

"Matt?" Michael stuck his head out of the room farther up the hallway, then approached the other man. "How did it go?"

Matt let out a huge sigh. “It went okay. I didn’t mention the obvious thing.”

Michael nodded approvingly. “Good job. I’ll show you out.”

The two of them continued down the hallway for a few minutes before Matt spoke again. “Michael?”

The engineer glanced at him “Yeah?”

"Why  _does_  Peter wear that mask?”

"…I’ll tell you some other time."


	12. In The Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rabbit gets into a fight with Hare. Rabbit wins but gets pretty hurt. Ends with Rabbit/WG Paige fluff. (Prompted)

It was a beautiful day, and Paige was in the back garden. Rabbit had wanted to enjoy the sunshine and tend to his own little patch of ground, and she had agreed to keep him company for a time. But the two of them had slowly drifted apart after a time, Rabbit tending to his flowers, and Paige tending to the rest, minus the plots The Spine and Hatchworth had.

She carefully looked over the plot of kazoo-shaped flowers as she passed over them with her watering can. They looked nearly ready to bloom into full Kazookaphones; she would have to tell Rabbit so he could write The Jon.

A warm breeze blew through the garden, and the patch of flowers started to hum in the wind. Paige smiled. Kazoos weren’t the prettiest instruments she’d ever heard, but there was something nice about the way they hummed in the wind, like a swarm of friendly, stationary bees. The Jon had good reason to be proud of them.

Paige bent down, intent on picking one, just for fun, when she heard the crunch of gravel further down the path. She stood up guiltily. Rabbit, not to mention The Jon, would throw a fit if they found her picking Kazookaphlowers before The Jon could see them. She turned toward the sound to make an excuse and stopped.

A copper robot stood at the end of the gravel pathway, but the robot wasn’t Rabbit. It was a fair bit shabbier, and a lot meaner. A green eye glinted creepily at her from under the robot’s black cap.

"Heya, Toots."

Paige took an involuntary step back as the robot stepped closer.

"Where you off to?" The robot advanced faster, and Paige took another few steps backward.

"Stop right there," she said, her voice softer than she had hoped, but steady. The robot obeyed, though it seemed more amused than threatened, stopping perhaps a yard away from where she stood. Paige took another step back. "You’re not allowed on Walter property. Get out."

"What cha’ gonna do, water me to death?" The robot chuckled. "I ain’t looking for too much trouble, so don’t give me any, alright, Toots?"

Paige snorted and hefted her watering can. She knew this robot, though she’d never met him. Hare Becile. “Don’t call me that.”

"Then what’s your name?" Hare took another step forward.

Paige snapped and threw her watering can at his head. She turned and ran up the path, and heard a clang behind her as her missile hit its target.

"Hey!" The shout came from farther behind her, but she didn’t risk a look back. She had to find Rabbit. She ran toward his garden plot, but he wasn’t there.  _'He must have gone back inside,'_  she thought. A shout from behind her kicked her into high gear again, and she sprinted for the back entryway, turning through the hedge maze in an attempt to lose Hare.

She soon left him cursing and lost behind her, for a long while she hoped, and skidded around the end corner of the maze, just a little ways from the doorway. Rabbit was there, pulling on his regular gloves and humming happily to himself.

"Rabbit!" He turned to look at Paige, startled by her urgency. She ran toward him, stopping just short of crashing into him, and clutched at the stitch in her side.

Rabbit held out his arm so she could steady herself. “What’s wrong? What’s goin’ on?”

"Hare… He’s…" Paige gasped, taking his arm and doubling over, "He’s… Here."

"What? Hare?" Rabbit looked up, scanning the immediate area for any sign of the other robot. "Where’d you see him?"

"Left him… in the maze." Paige was starting to catch her breath now, pulling herself up. "He got… got lost in it."

Rabbit nodded. “Right. Okay, g-g-go back inside and find Th’ Spine, okay? I’ll deal with him for right now.”

Paige looked up at him. “Are you going to be okay?”

Rabbit nodded, though he wasn’t really convinced himself. “Sure I will. I’ve dealt with that tin can before, I can take him.”

"Oh yeah?" Paige and Rabbit turned, and there was Hare, two yards away, cracking his knuckle joints ominously. "I’d like to see you try, you stutterin’ bastard."

Rabbit moved in front of Paige and rolled up his sleeves. “You’re not allowed on Walter p-p-property. Get out.”

"No allowed on your  _'p-p-property'_? Ooh, I’m stutterin’ in my boots.” Hare shot the Walter bot a nasty grin. “Come on, if your such a big shot. Come on an’ fight me.”

"Not looking for trouble, my foot," Paige muttered, looking at the Becile-bot in disgust.

"Paige, get inside," Rabbit said. "Go find Spine."

"Your name is Paige?" Hare asked, advancing slowly, fists up. "Cute, just like you."

Paige balked, then turned and ran indoors, leaving the robots alone in the garden.

"You leave her all-lone," Rabbit growled.

Hare laughed, loud and harsh. “You like her, don’t you? Shame you’re not human, ain’t it? Or maybe you just don’t have the guts to get that girl.” His eyes gleamed as they circled each other. “Always knew you were a wuss, you old bastard.”

With an angry yell, Rabbit lunged.

——

Paige ran through the manor, calling for The Spine. She found him in the third living room, organizing the bookshelves.

"What’s wrong, Miss Law?" he asked, looking slightly aghast at the panicked look on her face.

The young woman put a hand on her chest and breathed in deeply for a few moments, leaning against the doorway. “Hare is in the garden,” she said finally. “Rabbit’s there, too. They’re fighting, and Rabbit told me to get you, and-“

The Spine was already running toward the garden.

——

Rabbit tried to haul himself off the ground, but Hare kicked him again and sent him sprawling. “Pathetic. You’re supposed to be a war bot, ain’t you?”

Rabbit rolled away from Hare’s feet and scrambled back up, raising his fists again. “Yeah, I am. So- so I got m-m-more experience than you, you b-b-baby.”

Hare sprang forward, catching Rabbit’s jaw with his right fist, and going in to hit him again with his left. Rabbit grabbed Hare’s hands and struck with his head, sending the other robot into a daze.

Hare stumbled backward as Rabbit let go of his hands and hit him again, detaching his lower jaw and knocking him to the ground. He let Hare sit up before kicking him hard, forcing him down again. “P-p-pick up y-y-your jaw and g-g-get out.”

Hare picked up his jaw, and glared up at Rabbit, saying nothing.

"Rabbit!" The Spine was in the doorway, looking at the scene before him. Paige followed close on his heels, carrying a wrench she’d picked up on the way.

The copper robots both looked at him. Rabbit spoke. “G-g-get him outta here,” he said, gesturing at Hare, who was scrambling to his feet, reattaching his jaw. Before he could do more, The Spine had strode over and grabbed his arms, pinning them behind his back. Hare growled, but The Spine remained impassive as he dragged the other robot toward the nearest garden wall.

Paige followed after The Spine, tapping his shoulder. “Wait.” The Spine looked confused, but obeyed.

Paige stood in front of Hare, her face flushed, and her eyes flashing. Hare looked at her and grinned lecherously. “Heya, Paige. Come to fix me up?” He winked.

Paige clubbed him with her wrench, then watched in satisfaction as The Spine lobbed him over the wall.

——

Rabbit was not happy to be in the workshop, but he couldn’t really avoid it. The fight with Hare had damaged him badly, and both The Spine and Paige had insisted he get repaired.

Paige worked on him, serious and silent, allowing him to regale her with tales of his bravery against his evil foe.

"Y-y-you’re not smiling," Rabbit said finally, after exhausting his supply of heroic stories. "What’s wrong?"

Paige, fiddling with his chassis, looked up into his mismatched eyes. “I was afraid you were going to get hurt. Hurt so bad I couldn’t fix you.”

Rabbit blinked. “Oh, you didn’t have to worry. I was fine the who-whole time.” Paige raised an eyebrow and indicated his open chassis. “Well,” Rabbit amended, “most of the time, anyway. Wouldn’t have been hurt  _that_  bad. Ain’t no Becile-bot gonna get the best of me.”

Paige smiled slightly. “I was just worried, is all. I’d hate it if you got hurt and I couldn’t help you.” She closed Rabbit’s chassis and stepped back. “All finished in there. Let’s see that arm.”

Rabbit obligingly held his right arm out for her to inspect, sighing steam as he did so. “I usually don’t need help, you know. I’m capable an’ fierce an’ b-b-brave an’ all that stuff.”

Paige smiled a little more. “I know you are. But even brave warriors have to get fixed up sometimes. And I’m glad I get to fix you. It means I get to spend more time with you.”

Rabbit blinked again. “Do you… like spending time with me?”

"Of course I do, Rabbit," Paige said as she mended his arm joint with a soldering iron. "You’re… you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met, and I like that about you." She stepped back again and looked him in the eye. "But please… try not to get hurt like this again."

Rabbit couldn’t blush, but steam hissed out of his vents. “I’ll do my best.”


	13. Boy's Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael, Steve, and Sam go on a Boys’ Night Out to discuss the frustrations of the job over drinks. (Prompted by geeknip)

It had been a long time since they had all had a simultaneous break. There was only one place to go.

 

 The bar wasn’t that far away from the manor, so the three of them weren’t exactly unknown. But those who did know them were often surprised that they knew each other.

 "Oh, god," Sam groaned as he sat down in the booth, water in hand, "this is exactly what I needed right now."

 "A stiff water?" Michael teased as he slid in opposite Sam, drinking something spiked and purple.

"A break."

Steve sat down next to Michael, rolling his head on his shoulders. “Not as much as I needed one. I swear, those robots…” 

Sam glanced up from his laid back position on the bench. “What’d they do this time?”

Steve snorted and chugged his soda. “What  _didn’t_  they do? First the quesadilla fight-“

"There was another one?" Sam asked, nonchalantly sipping his water.

Michael gave Sam a curious, and slightly jealous, look. “You didn’t know? I thought everyone had to help clean up.”

Sam shrugged. “Guess I was on litter-box duty when it happened. Nobody interrupts that, it’s too important.”

The other two nodded sagely. “Forgot you were doing that today,” Steve remarked. “But, yeah, Rabbit and The Jon had another one. It was the seventh living room this time.”

Michael drained his glass. “Took hours to make a dent in the mess. I think we’ll be working on it for weeks, so you’ll see the aftermath at some point.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I can’t wait. Really. It’s better than looking after Marshmallow, I’m sure of it. Don’t get me started on what I found in that sandpit.”

Michael and Steve shuddered appreciatively. He didn’t have to tell them about the horrors of Marshmallow’s litter-box. They all had to clean it out some time. Steve once swore that he had found one of the sand worms from  _Beetlejuice_ , and the other two weren’t all that inclined to think it false.

"So, outside of the fight, what else happened today?"

Michael tried to flag down a waitress to no avail. “Well, I had to get Rabbit in for a tune up. That’s always a chore.”

Steve caught the eye of a waitress and beckoned her over. He gave the man next to him a look as she eyed his dreadlocks appreciatively. Michael snorted and asked for a glass of water, turning up his charm as he did so. The waitress left, hiding her blush behind her long hair.

Steve snorted at Michael’s triumphant smile and turned back to Sam. “I know that litter-box duty takes up a pretty big chunk of day, but did you manage to do anything else?”

Sam shook his head, “No. I’m more curious as to why the quesadilla fight started, really.”

"Well, nobody really knows," Michael said. "But when we came in after all the fuss had died down a bit, they were yelling something about whether or not toasters could fly with fairy dust. And they were both covered in cheese and salsa. Hence, the tune up."

"And the clean up," Steve added as the waitress came back with their drinks. She caught the eye of both Steve and Michael, blushed, and scurried away again.

"Why do they never flirt with me?" Sam wondered aloud.

"You don’t flirt first," Steve replied, leaning back and sipping his soda. "And I’m a pro at this."

"You’re not even in the little leagues, Steve," Michael said.

Steve smacked the table with his hand. “Is that a challenge?”

"Not again," Sam muttered. This always happened eventually whenever they went out together. The two of them wouldn’t rest until one of them had gotten the poor girl’s number. Sam leaned back, sipping his water, and prepared to watch the show.

This was the only break he could have expected. Thank heavens it was the only one he wanted.


	14. A Dinner Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A celebratory dinner at Walter Manor in honor of Matt Smith’s official addition to the team. (Prompted by geeknip)

The dinner party wasn’t exactly awkward, but it was just on the edge. It wasn’t that the people in the manor didn’t see each other and interact. They did it quite often. But there was always something different about having dinner together that nobody could quite put their finger on.

Maybe it was because the robots didn’t eat. They sat, talked, and drank water, but they didn’t ever serve themselves, never asked anyone to pass anything, and the plates in front of them remained clean and empty.

Or perhaps it was that Peter VI wasn’t eating either, given that he was not all that inclined to show off exactly how he managed it without a face. And thus, his plate remained empty also.

It could have been that part of it was that Matt had not yet met Norman, and had the unfortunate problem of being sat next to him. Norman took some getting used to, despite being very polite and rather self-concious about his looks. Matt was trying to make conversation, but they didn’t have too much in common, and the sheer oddness of Norman made him a bit uncomfortable.

Maybe it was because occasionally Rabbit had to get up and set the red armchair on fire, release the ghost, and then sit down again and chug water until his mouth cooled, which clouded the table in steam.

But it still happened. And it wasn’t a bad time either.


	15. The Jon Meets Matt

"So, wait, who is he?" The Jon asked again. He had briefly returned from Kazooland to check on his flower patch, and was very excited to meet the new person.

"He’s our new drummer, and another engineer," The Spine replied. "His name is Matt Smith."

The Jon’s photo-receptors went wide. “Is he a Time Lord?”

The Spine sighed. “No.”

"So he doesn’t have a TARDIS?"

"No."

"How about a time turner?"

"No."

"A delorean?"

"No, Jon. He doesn’t travel in time."

The golden bot looked disappointed. “I bet he drives a boring car.”

"He d-d-does," Rabbit said from his place at the window. "I can see it pullin’ up right now."

Jon gasped and ran out of the living room, making for the front door. “OH BOY!” His two brothers followed quietly behind him.

"He’s very excited to meet someone who apparently drives a boring car," The Spine remarked.

Rabbit shrugged. “Maybe he’s hopin’ you were lying.”

The foyer was just ahead of them, and Matt had been forcibly hugged by The Jon, who was babbling about how nice it was to meet him and would he come to the built-day party they were gonna throw soon and did he really not have a delorean because that would be REALLY COOL and-

"Jon, you know Matt has to breathe, right?" The Spine admonished gently.

"Oh." The golden bot let go of Matt and looked at his shoes contritely, "Sorry."

Matt gasped a little and rubbed his ribs surreptitiously with his forearm. “That’s okay.” He looked around as The Spine and Rabbit approached. “Hi, guys. What’s up?”

"Not much," Rabbit replied. "Th’ Jon was visiting and wanted to meet you, is all."

"Rabbit said you know how to play trombone." The golden bot looked very excited by this.

"I - uh, yeah, I can." Matt seemed slightly bowled over by The Jon’s enthusiasm, but still smiled at the golden robot.

"Will you teach me to play? I wanna learn how but I never got programmed to play trombone or brass stuff except trumpet that one time and I played tuba the other time except that didn’t count because all I had to do was blow into the tuba to get Uncle Ralphie out of it and-"

"Jon, slow down," The Spine said, placing a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. "He can’t answer your question if you talk over him."

The Jon nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He smiled at Matt, his blue photo-receptors wide. “Will you show me how to play trombone?” he asked again, quieter.

Matt shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

The golden bot gasped in delight. “Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy! I’m gonna go and find a trombone, you meet me on the third floor music room!” And with that he ran off, whooping happily.

Rabbit huffed. “You’ll teach him trombone, but not me?”

"You never asked," Matt replied. "I probably would if you asked."

Rabbit’s photo-receptors got wide. “Y-y-you would?” Matt nodded, and Rabbit took off after The Jon. “I’m gonna learn trombone! Wooooooo!”

The Spine looked after his brothers, then beckoned for Matt to follow him. “I’ll show you the third floor music room.”

"Thanks."

The two of them climbed the stairs in silence. When they reached the music room, The Spine stopped.

"I hope you know what you’re getting in to."

Matt shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know, really. But I don’t think things will go too wrong.”

The Spine looked unconvinced, but he didn’t say anything more.


	16. A Huge Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hatchworth interaction with Becile Bots (Prompted by awake-atnight)

"I want to  _hurt_  him.” The Jack giggled, advancing slowly on the bronze robot, fingers twitching. Hatchworth, to his credit, didn’t quiver. He was frightened, but he’d never let them know. He was a war bot. He would not show fear.

Hare moved around him, faster than The Jack, getting behind Hatchworth and cutting off his retreat down the alleyway. “Can’t hurt him too bad, Jackie,” he said as he made to grab for the Walter bot. Hatchworth twitched away from his grip, but that put him closer to The Jack.

The two robots advanced, forcing him against the alley wall. Hare raised his fists, and The Jack giggled manically. “Twitchy-witchy Hatchy-bot, lost and all alone,” he whispered in a sing-song croon, reaching toward the bronze bot.

"Shouldn’ta gone out today, jackass," Hare said, and his fist caught the side of Hatchworth’s face, knocking off his fake mustache. "Like you thought we couldn’t notice you under  _that._ ”

"Big mistake," The Jack said, grabbing Hatchworth’s head and trying to smash it against the wall.

Hatchworth struggled out from under The Jack’s grip and ducked Hare’s incoming fist. He kicked out, catching the copper robot’s legs and forcing him over. He started running down the alleyway as The Jack screeched behind him. He had to get home.

The Jack was running after him, Hare not far behind. Hatchworth ran, a hard, methodical run, programmed into him from his war days. The other two had little trouble keeping up with him, but he had the edge on them in another way: he knew his way home through this alley. He could lose them here.

Hatchworth saw the fork ahead of him, and turned left when he knew the manor was to the right, and ducked into the maze. He heard a triumphant whoop from behind him and realized too late that he had made a huge mistake.

The Skull materialized in front of him out of the darkness. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”

He couldn’t turn. The other two were coming up on his back, and The Skull stood in front of him, an impassible wall of titanium.

And Hatchworth was afraid.


	17. Mustard Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> QWERTY malfunctions, which causes problems around the Manor. (Prompted by awake-atnight)

There was mustard everywhere. And it was only getting worse.

"Oh, the humanity!" Rabbit cried, looking over the rooms, hands held up in classic "Home Alone" fashion.

"Humanity? There is no humanity, it is only QWERTY," Hatchworth stated factually.

"It’s j-j-just an expression, Hatchy, for Pete’s sake!"

The Spine ignored this exchange, choosing instead to carefully make his way toward the screen on the middle of the room. QWERTY bobbed up and down on his array of wires, and sprayed mustard at him.

"Intruderintruderintruder-er-er-er-errrorerrorerror." The synthetic voice rose above the clanging alarms. "Warning-ing-ing-war-warn- _bzzzzzzzzzzt._ " The computer swiveled wildly, wires flailing. The Spine caught the spinning screen and got smacked with a loose wire for his trouble.

"Get up on the hydra’s back, Spine!" Rabbit called from the doorway. The Spine rolled his eyes as he wrestled with the screen, forcing open the back panel. He pulled blindly at the wires within, and with a final buzz, QWERTY shut off.

The mustard jets stopped immediately, but unfortunately, so did the WiFi. The Spine felt the connection in his head cease, and he had a strange sensation like cotton had been stuffed in his mental ears.

Rabbit poked gingerly at his own head. “That feels  _really_  weird.”

The Spine waded through the mustard out of the room. His suit was ruined for now; he would have to get it dry-cleaned. But in the meantime… “Hatchworth, go and get Peter, he’ll need to fix QWERTY up so he’s functioning again. Rabbit, you find Wanda, see if she can locate a couple of maids.”

"What will you do, The Spine?" Hatchworth asked.

The silver bot sighed. “I’m gonna go and find a mop.”


	18. "I Did A Bad Thing"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Script!fic

_Scene: Hare and The Jack have cornered their Walter-built counterparts. Rabbit and The Jon are pressed up against the wall together. Rabbit has tried to fight, but his fuel is gone and his core is depleted. He’s been focusing on keeping The Jon safe._

_(Hare advances as The Jack follows slowly behind him, giggling. Rabbit clutches The Jon close, but the golden bot wiggles out of his grip and moves forward, his usual sweet gaze replaced by something sinister and scarily competent.)_

**Rabbit:**  Jon, what are you doin’?

_(The Jon glides smoothly forward and reaches out toward Hare’s chassis, tearing through his clothes and reaching up to grab his core. Hare screams, then drops as The Jon tears his core out and holds it up, his hand soaked in oil.)_

**The Jack:** _(screams)_  Hare!  _(he kneels to hold Hare’s head, then looks up and hisses at The Jon)_   **You.**

_(The Jon doesn’t notice this. He looks at the core in his hand dispassionately, then his eyes grow to their usual wideness. He looks from his hand to Hare and The Jack, then back toward Rabbit. He looks terrified. He drops the core and runs back toward his brother, grabbing Rabbit’s wrist and pulling him away. The Jack screeches behind them, getting up to follow.)_

**The Jack:**   _(yells incoherently - short exclamations of “Hare!” “Hurt!” and “You!”)_

_(The Walters are eventually cornered again. The Jon still looks afraid and shocked, but runs in front of Rabbit toward The Jack, and looks again at his hand before throwing his arms wide and making himself a target. The Jack slams him up against a wall and tears at his clothes, trying to reach his core.)_

**The Jack:**   _(giggling manically)_  Get your core — I’m gonna — pay back — gonna — hurt—

_(Rabbit grabs The Jack from behind and pulls him away from The Jon. The Jack is still babbling and reaching for The Jon’s chassis, but begins to struggle against Rabbit as well, trying to break his hands. The Jon is standing pressed against the wall, watching in shock.)_

**Rabbit:**   _(struggling to contain The Jack)_  Jon, help me!

_(The Jon moves forward and together he and Rabbit smash The Jack repeatedly into the wall, until he is no longer mobile, but still conscious. The Jack screams at them, and The Jon freezes in place as he looks at the robot. Rabbit grabs his wrist and pulls him away, and they run away toward the manor.)_

**Rabbit:**  We gotta-ta get home. Everything will be fine.

 **The Jon:**  Rabbit, I—

 **Rabbit:**  Come on!

_(They run, and all the while Jon keeps looking at his oil-soaked hand. They arrive at the manor and The Jon hugs Rabbit very tightly.)_

**The Jon:**  Rabbit, I did a bad thing. I  **killed**  him.

 **Rabbit:**   _(patting The Jon)_  No-no. He’s a robut. Robuts don’t die, you know they don’t. His core’s just out, you’ll see. _(darkly)_  He’ll be back before too long. They both will.

 **The Jon:**   _(sobbing)_  No! No, I did a bad thing! I didn’t mean to but he was gonna hurt us and - and - and I had to stop him so I just went to the dark place and reached up and there was blood in my joints and-

 **Rabbit:**  Blood? What are you talking about?

_(The Jon lets go of Rabbit and holds up his hand. He looks at it, then looks at Rabbit.)_

**The Jon:**  I didn’t mean to. But—

_(A memory: The Jon is a war machine in 1897, cornered by one of the Becile minions. The Jon reaches forward, the same cold expression from earlier on his face, but the memory ends before The Jon makes contact.)_

**The Jon:**  I — I didn’t want to go back to the dark place, but I  _had_  to. I didn’t want to - to— _(he looks at his hand again)_  I need to go wash this, or Peter will get angry.

_(Rabbit nods slowly, and the two robots enter the manor together.)_

_(End.)_


	19. Mitch Bobbington Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every single Mitch prompt from that one night wherein he was a thing. Because if I posted them all separately, I'd feel like an idiot.

**Mitch Bobbington as squirrel king. -emilyjayne23**

The ditch was cold and damp and filled with acorns. The squirrels found him there, buried under the acorns, half-alive and slightly rabid. He smelled like squirrel, and so they thought him a squirrel. A large one.

They made their home around him, chittering in his ear and feeding him acorns. Slowly he edged back toward sanity and health. He stayed in the ditch, because the squirrels brought him acorns, and he liked the acorns fine.

There were no jobs in the ditch, but that was okay. He would find some, soon. And in the meantime, the squirrels had made him their king.

Mitch Bobbington, King of the Ditch-Squirrels.

He could get behind that.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

**Mitch decides he really does want to act like The Spine again, so dresses up like him and sneaks into Walter Manor. -miko-darcia**

_He had liked playing the role of The Spine while the real Spine was out with a virus. He wouldn’t play him again, however, and that depressed him. He thought that he had done a good job. But the Walters had told him that his services were no longer needed. And then the squirrels had happened._

_But that was far behind him. It was time to be The Spine again. He was sure he could pull it off, if only they gave him the chance._

_He walked into the manor, dressed and made up, and he was The Spine. It was perfect. No one ever knew that it wasn’t true; even The Spine said that he was better at being The Spine than The Spine was. Even The Spine thought that he was The Spine._

Buried under his nest of acorns, Mitch Bobbington, King of the Ditch-Squirrels, rolled over in his sleep and continued dreaming.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

**Auditioning for the role of the Spine. For the actual the Spine. Not David. The literal robot. -all-four-cheekbones**

"I’d be good at it."

"That’s what everyone has said about you. You’ve got the build for it, definitely. And if you tweaked the voice it could work out well." Peter VI set down his pencil and leaned back in his chair, observing the man before him. "With some makeup you could do the job, I think. Assuming you’re good enough to replace him for a show. He’d have to approve of you."

"He will."

"You sound awfully certain about that," came The Spine’s voice from behind them. The tall robot walked into the room and circled the man standing there. "I don’t know, Peter. He seems… overeager."

"I contend that he’s just about perfect,” Peter said, “but it’s up to you.”

The Spine studied the man. “Do you know why you’re needed?”

A nod. “You’re malfunctioning, and you’re worried that you might accidentally hurt the audience. Peter told me that.”

The Spine nodded. “And do you think you could do the job well enough?”

Another nod.

"Prove it."

The man began to sing, his voice low and smooth. _“They say oh / oh it’s so down / but baby its sound / makes your worries cease to pound…”_

The Spine stopped him. “Yes. He’ll do nicely, Peter.”

Peter stood and shook the man’s hand. “Welcome aboard, Mitch Bobbington.”

 

~~~~~~~~

 

**Mitch and David get in a fight over who is the ~~real~~  best Spine. -cheetah-butt-cup**

"Well, you did a good job, Mitch. I don’t think they could even tell it wasn’t me. Mostly." David blew his nose and gave Mitch a thumbs up. "I think I’ll be over this cold by the next show though, so we don’t need you anymore.”

"Wait, where did I go wrong? I thought my portrayal was completely accurate." Mitch was slightly offended by the accusation that he had been sub-par. It wasn’t that he still wanted to be The Spine — he didn’t — but he’d thought he was as good as David would have been. Or even better, now he thought of it.

David sniffled. “The robot moves need a little work, and you went a little over-the-top during a few of the bits. No criticism meant, really, just was kind of different to how I do it.”

Mitch sniffed. “Your robot movements could do with some improvements, too. You’re slipping up and being human on stage. I’m a method actor. I  _inhabit_  the role. You just play it. Granted, you play it pretty well, but…” Mitch let the sentence trail off and shrugged.

"What? No way do you ‘inhabit’ the role. I’ve lived that role for over five years now!" David scowled. "And at least I practiced my robot moves, instead of just doing them on the fly. They were amateur, coming from you."

"Amateur!" Mitch stomped his foot indignantly. "Calling me, Mitch Bobbington, an amateur! Lies, I tell you, all lies!"

"Guys," Bunny said, stepping in between the two men before they started throwing punches, "why don’t we just agree to disagree? You did a good job, Mitch, and we’ll keep you in mind if there’s a next time," she said as she handed Mitch his check for the gig. She smiled at him and nudged him in the direction of the door.

Mitch Bobbington left the Bennett’s apartment feeling belittled.


	20. The Not-Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone attempts to rob Walter Manor and has to have his hapless self rescued. (Prompted by geeknip)

It was a big house, big enough that no one would notice a few things missing. And it was out of the way enough that he could make a run for it before the police would even get close. There were no security cameras on the surrounding wall, no lock on the gate, and no front door. It was the perfect place to hit.

So he’d thought then.

Robot security systems tended to put a damper on most plans, but this was just ridiculous — there had been no evidence of any security systems, nothing to indicate than anything in the manor was automated for security purposes. He knew better now, of course.

Two pairs of automated eyes looked at him, tied as he was to a chair. He tried not to squirm too much as the tallest robot paced around him, green eyes glinting in the gloom of wherever it was they had dragged him.

"I suspect this wasn’t how you wanted the evening to go," the robot said, its voice low.

The other robot hissed mechanically, its mismatched eyes shining brightly out of the shadowy corner where it was. “You were gonna m-m-make off with our stuff, weren’t ya? Didn’t expect us, did ya?”

He shook.

"I didn’t think so," the tall one said, looming over him as it came to halt in front of the chair. "You ought not to steal things, sir. It gets you in trouble."

"Ain’t no one gonna rescue you, huh, buddy?" The other robot — was it copper? It was hard to tell in the gloom — moved forward to stand beside its taller companion. "No one’ll get you out of this mess." The mismatched eyes flashed creepily as the robot leaned in close, and he could see its teeth. There were lots of teeth.

"Now," the tall one said as the other one straightened up, "there are two ways this could go. One is, we let you go and you never come back here again."

This sounded like a good option to him. He never wanted to come back here again. He might as well just leave the state; God forbid that he ever ran into these robots anywhere else. The copper robot seemed disappointed that this was an option, huffing what he thought might have been steam into the air.

"The other option," the robot continued, "is that I leave you here and forget about you. That, of course, depends on what you tried to take."

He gulped as the copper robot pulled his duffel into view. He only hoped he passed the test.

Out came the computer. And the other computer. And the other one. The most valuable items he could easily fit into the bag seemed to not faze the two automatons as they set them gently on the floor. The next thing that came out were some pearl earrings and a matching necklace. He had found them in an empty bedroom on a vanity mirror.

The copper robot hissed and glared at him as it looked them over. The taller robot appeared none too pleased either. “Going into that room was not a wise idea,” it said. “That’s one strike against you.”

He didn’t know how they knew which room he’d been in. He didn’t know that it was important, but apparently it was. He did know that he shouldn’t try to make excuses. Clearly the pearls were valuable to the robots.

The duffel was slowly emptied. Nothing elicited another comment from the robots. The copper one held the pearls close, however, and kept glaring from them to him.

After they had finished, they stepped out. He heard a brief argument, something about desecrating Pappy’s room, before the tall one came in and untied him. He was then tossed over one shoulder and thrown unceremoniously into the warm San Diego night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thought about Pappy and Iris' room is that it remains unoccupied.


	21. Bedtime Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Year Was 1904…

It was getting close to bedtime for the twins. Peters II and III were trying desperately to avoid their mother and stay up, and thus they thought it a marvelous idea to go and bother The Spine for a bedtime story. That would keep their mother at bay, surely.

The two seven year olds found the silver robot in his favorite living room reading. Number Three was lying on the floor off to the side of the room, humming happily to himself. The twins payed him no mind, and instead made their way over to where The Spine sat.

"Uncle Spine?" Peter II asked as he put his head in front of The Spine’s book. "Would you tell us a story before bed?"

The Spine was not much older than the twins, in truth, only eight, but they called him ‘Uncle Spine’ despite his insistence that he was simply ‘The Spine.’ He carefully marked his place in his book and set it aside. He knew full well that it was past their bedtime, but he couldn’t help but indulge them tonight; it was one of those nights.

The silver robot patted his lap, and Peter the second clambered up onto it, settling in for a story. Peter the third leaned against the arm of The Spine’s chair and gazed up at the robot in anticipation.

"What kind of story do you want to hear?" The Spine asked.

"Make one up," said Peter III. Over on the other side of the room, Number Three perked up. Made up stories were the best kind.

The Spine took a deep breath, then began. “Once upon a time—”

"Oh, don’t start it _that_  way, Uncle Spine,” said the Peter in his lap, “that’s boring.”

The Spine sighed. “Well, how should I start it, then?”

"Start it in the middle." Peter the third nodded his agreement at this. If The Spine had to start in the middle, it would hopefully take him longer to finish.

The silver robot blinked. “That’s a silly place to start a story.”

"No it isn’t," Number Three said, crawling over to sit in front of his brother’s chair. "You can start a story wherever you want to! I’ll even start it in the middle, listen—" The golden robot drew his arm across his body like he was drawing a sword. "—I rode out with my sword to go and slay the evil dragon that bled strawberry jam."

"Why did it bleed jam?" Peter the third asked curiously as he settled himself into Number Three’s lap.

The gold robot put his arm around the boy. “Because it was a dragon. Dragons are full of jam.”

"Ooooh," the boys said, both nodding solemnly. It was easy to believe. They had never seen a dragon, it made perfect sense that they should be full of jam, especially if Number Three said so.

The Spine tapped a forefinger on the arm of his chair. “Can’t I tell the story?”

"Sorry, The Spine, go ahead." Number Three and the boy in his lap both looked eagerly up at the silver robot, waiting to hear what happened next.

"So," The Spine continued, "Number Three rode out on his noble steed—"

"It was a quesadilla." Number Three interrupted.

Peter II looked at the robot skeptically. “Can you ride a quesadilla?”

"Sure you can! I’ll show you some time."

The Spine cleared his throat, and everyone was quiet once again. “Anyway, Number Three rode out to slay the jam dragon, but first he had to rescue the princess in the chocolate tower.” The Spine had added this because any good fairy story was supposed to have a princess that needed rescuing, so he thought.

"What did he have to rescue her from?" asked Peter the third.

The Spine thought briefly before answering. “The dragon that bled caramel.”

"But I thought," said Peter the second, "I thought that dragons were full of jam." The other Peter and Number Three nodded in agreement, and Number Three almost looked as though he was about to interrupt again.

The Spine quickly continued. “Only the big ones are filled with jam. Little ones are filled with caramel.”

"Ooooh," said the rest of the party, including Number Three, who looked very impressed, almost as though he had thought the caramel dragon up himself.

The Spine pressed on in telling his story. “So, Number Three rode to the chocolate tower and slew the dragon,”

"How did he do it?" Asked the Peter in his lap, cuddling closer to The Spine and blinking tiredly.

The Spine drew one hand through the air in a slicing motion, as though he were handling a sword. “Just like that.”

Peter Three, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, spoke softly. “Why did he have to go and slay the caramel dragon first?”

"Because he had to practice on a smaller dragon before he could even try slaying the big one."

Numer Three was about to speak, most likely to argue that he could slay any dragon at any time without practice, when Peter II spoke again. “Why was he going to slay the big dragon?”

"Because," replied Number Three, "the dragon stole my sour cream!"

"That’s a mean thing to do," Peter the third said in that solemn tone only a tired seven-year-old can manage. Number Three nodded at this, and the boy in his lap curled up further, yawning.

"Well," The Spine said, knowing that if he tried to continue, the twins would soon be asleep, "it’s time for bed."

"Buh-buh-buh-but the story’s not over yet," Peter II complained with a yawn. He glared defiantly up at The Spine, grouchy though his tired eyes.

"I’ll tell you more tomorrow," The Spine promised as he hoisted the boy up into his arms. Number Three did the same with Peter the third, who was already nearly asleep.

The two robots carried the boys to their room, Peter the second all the while tiredly complaining that he wasn’t sleepy. Peter the third, for his part, was already asleep, his head buried in Number Three’s wig.

"I’m not tired, Uncle Spine," said Peter II as the silver robot entered the room and carried him to his bed.

"I know," The Spine said softly, smiling.

"I’m really not." The boy rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I’m awake."

The Spine stroked Peter’s dark hair gently. “I know,” he said again, “but I’ll tuck you in anyway.”

"Okay." And the boy was asleep before The Spine had finished tucking the blanket around him.


	22. Shutting Down

_His tremors were getting worse. He needed soda. But the store, it seemed, had finally run dry. The Walters had no more to give. He couldn’t go on for much longer without it. Remodeling would take too long, he thought. There wasn’t time for it. Never again would he be water-powered, only dependent on a discontinued soda._

_He_ did _try to stay optimistic, despite The Spine’s attitude about things. There were other sodas — perhaps they would work. But no; not fruit sodas, imported sodas,_ any _sodas._

_And his tremors were getting worse._

_——_

"Th-there you are!" A whir and a hiss sound through the air as Rabbit sits heavily beside the golden robot. "I dunno why you’re hidin’ out here; Th’ Spine’s ju-just bein’ gloomy. Yer not  _really_  sick.”

The golden robot doesn’t react, though Rabbit waits a few moments to see if he will.

——

_He wandered out late the previous evening. It was going to rain, and he liked rain. He liked the way it felt against his outer casing, liked the way that it sometimes struck the tip of his nose. He had a special spot where he would go sometimes, next to the garden shed. He would sit there and let the rain fall on him._

_He made his way slowly. The tremors stopped him a few times, left him still and shaking. Once it got so bad that was afraid they would never stop, that he would just collapse, shaking, on the pathway. But they did stop, eventually, and he made it to the shed in one piece._

_He sat down with his back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him. He put one arm across his lap and tilted his head back against the shed wall. He sighed and closed his optics._

_Presently, it began to rain._

_——_

Rabbit sits in silence for a few moments before speaking again. “What’re you lookin’ at?” he asks.

There is no response. The golden robot doesn’t seem to be staring at anything in particular, but his optics are wide open, his back straight against the wall.

——

_The tremors began again after a_ _while. They started small, but soon enough he had opened his optics again. He couldn’t lie still, and it scared him. He tried to stay in one position, but the tremors had him shaking too much. Eventually they had him sitting upright, his back pressed against the shed wall, his eyes wide._

_These were the tremors he had feared. Immobilizing, shaking him apart. He felt his core flicker, and for a moment his vision darkened._ _The tremors became especially violent. His extremities spasmed. He felt afraid, and then not afraid._

_And then he didn’t feel anything at all._

——

"Jon?" Rabbit shakes the golden robot by his shoulders, and the robot’s hat topples from his head. Rabbit notices, then, that the robot’s optics are dark. For a moment, he doesn’t believe what he sees.

And then he hugs the still body of his brother, and holds him close.

They stay like that for the rest of the day. It begins to rain again later in the evening, and The Spine comes out to the shed to give Rabbit an umbrella. That he comes in later soaking wet doesn’t seem to surprise anyone.

But The Spine still feels a twinge in his core when he returns to the shed after the rain to collect it and sees it placed carefully, so that The Jon doesn’t get wet.


	23. Construction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little anecdotes I imagined about The Spine's construction.

He opened his eyes. He didn’t know what they were, right then, but he did know that the world changed when he did it. There was  _more_. There was  _space_. Not a very large space, but more than he had seen before.

"Hm. Photo-receptors seem to be in working order. Isn’t that exciting, Rabbit?"

"He can see?" The voices - voices? - were behind him, he thought.

"Yes."

"Can - can he see  _me?_ ”

"Well, you’re not in his range of vision right now. But you can go around and look at him."

A shape peeked into his field of vision. It blinked and made a… it did  _something_. It scrunched up and bent in a strange way, and spoke. “He looks confused.”

"So do you," the other voice said. There was a tone to that voice that conveyed… something. He didn’t know what, but it made the shape - face, he realized, it was a face - scrunch up again, pushing its lower lip out.

"Well he’s not - not  _saying_  anything. Does he know what’s going - going on?”

"He will. He just needs to think for a while." The being that belonged to that voice came out from behind him. He saw a white coat. He knew it was a white coat now. He knew that the face he had seen was made of copper now.

The face - was it called Rabbit? - disappeared from his view as the being stood up taller. It had been crouching to look at him, he realized.

"So - so when will he be more than just a head?"

"In a little while." He realized that the voice sounded  _amused_. Something was… was funny. He wondered if Rabbit was funny in some way.

The white coat wrinkled  as the second person leaned over to look at him. The face looked very different from the copper one. Smoother, softer. He liked the look of it, he decided. That face looked…  _kind_. Flesh, he thought. Human, he thought. Rabbit wasn’t human… Robot. Automaton.

Rabbit was an automaton. So was he.

"Hello, number two," said the man. "Welcome to the world."

——

He saw Rabbit a lot; whenever his photo-receptors opened. He saw Peter a lot, too. Colonel Walter worked on him frequently. He talked to him while he did so, talking about all of the things he would see when he was complete. The things he would do. There was lots of talk about someone called Delilah. He would see Delilah, he was promised. He noted that Peter - Colonel Walter - seemed to enjoy talking about Delilah. She made him happy.

Rabbit said that the happiness was called “love.” Rabbit said that he, Rabbit, was loved, and so was Miss Delilah.

When he asked the copper robot whether he was also loved, Rabbit had replied that he didn’t know, that he should ask Pete - Colonel Walter. “He’ll know, The Spine.”

He wasn’t sure if the name had resulted from the fact that he  _had_  a spine, or whether Colonel Walter had referred to “working on the spine” often enough that Rabbit had taken it to be his name. Either way, it had stuck. Even the Colonel — “I - I call him Pappy, he doesn’t mind” — called him The Spine now.

——

"Really, I think we’ve made great progress on the rest of you today," the Colonel said, looking at the shiny titanium body. The Spine had been allowed to watch the construction of his legs and arms from his place on top of his torso. Soon he would be able to move around.

Rabbit had gone out to his small patch of garden, and he had told The Spine that he would take him to see it once he could walk. The Spine was looking forward to it, even if he found Rabbit’s company slightly grating at times.

Times like this, when it was just him and the Colonel, he found to be some of the times he enjoyed most. He got to ask interesting questions without Rabbit butting in, and usually he received an answer.

"Am I loved?"

The Colonel stopped cleaning his tools. He looked at The Spine. “What makes you ask that?”

If he’d had the shoulders to do it, The Spine would have shrugged. “Rabbit was talking about what love was. He said that he was loved. I wondered if I was, too.”

Colonel Walter nodded slowly. “I see… Of course you are, The Spine,” he smiled. “Why wouldn’t you be? It would be terribly self-loathing of me not to love my own creation.”

The Spine nodded as well, then considered a new thought. “…Do I love?”

Colonel Walter considered this for a few moments before answering. “…I don’t know, Spine. You’ll have to find out for yourself.”


	24. Feeling Pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spine finds a Walter girl dress and… (Prompted by cheetah-butt-cup)

He really shouldn’t have done it, but he couldn’t resist. His normal vest and trousers were so restricting at times, and he really did like the look of the dresses when he saw them.

And there was nobody around, so far as he knew.

The Spine slipped into the white-striped dress in the relative privacy of the Hall of Wires. He hummed a bit of “I Feel Pretty” as he twirled around in the cavernous space, stepping carefully to ensure he didn’t damage the dress. If Brianna found it torn, she would surely be suspicious.


	25. "I Thought You Liked the Dresses"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve becomes a Walter Girl. (Prompted by cake-batter-nevermore)

"C’mon, Steve, you said you liked the dresses."

"Mike, I said I liked the way they looked on Brianna and Paige. I never said I wanted to _wear_  one.”

"I thi-think you look cute, Steve."

"Thanks, I guess, Rabbit, but I’m still not going to—"

"Peter says you’ll get paid extra."

"That’s not as tempting as it sounds, Mike."

"You’ll also get off early every non-show day."

"…You sound kinda jealous about that."

"Well…"

"It’s a good deal, I suppose. But can I at least get a white jumpsuit instead?"

"We’ll see."


	26. It's Not Like He's Magic Anyway...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SPG human band members find out Peter VI was accepted to Hogwarts but declined the invitation. (Prompted by geeknip)

The three of them couldn’t believe the blog post when they read it. There was no way. _No. Way._  And yet, there it was, in print before their very eyes.

"Well," Steve said, "that… That’s insane. How do you—? I mean, how could you—? I mean, it’s— Mike, did you know about this?"

The engineer shook his head. “No. I knew he’d been asked to attend some places, but he never said where, and he always declined.”

"So, wait, Peter’s a wizard?" Matt asked, mind still boggled at the thought of turning down an invitation to attend Hogwarts, of all places.

"I don’t know! I guess he… must be." Michael looked perplexed by this. "If he was, though, you’d think that he would need training or something, right? I mean, you can’t just teach yourself magic… right?"

The other two shrugged, then Steve said what they were all thinking. “How do you turn that down even then?”

"Actually—" Peter’s voice made all three of the men jump. The red-haired man leaned against the doorframe, arms casually folded like he had been there for a minute or two. "Actually, looking at the way things have been handled the past few years, it was very easy to turn them down. What with that whole fiasco in 1998, it was amazing the place was still open. And they’ve not had the best safety records besides that, anyway. If I had said yes at the tender age of eleven, who knows if I might still be here. Frankly, I’m glad I said no."

"But - But it’s Hogwarts!" Steve exclaimed. The other two nodded fervently.

"And this is Walter Manor. What on earth do I need to go to that school for if I can get plenty of bizarre occurrences at home?" Peter shrugged himself away from the doorframe and made to leave.

"Besides," he said, looking over his shoulder, "I’m not a wizard, anyway. It’s the blue matter that makes all of the strange things happen around here, not me. They just assumed. Wrongly. So don’t ask me to perform any magic tricks."

And with that, Peter Walter VI left the three engineers gaping behind him.


	27. Hide-And-Seek The Walter Way

Rabbit was bored. Again. So he had decided to bother The Spine. Again.

"Hide n’ go seek!"

"Rabbit, really?"

"C’mon Spine, pleeeease?"

The Spine set down his novel, glaring at Rabbit in annoyance. “Fine. I get to seek.”

Rabbit shook his head. “N-n-no way, Spine, I know that trick. You wouldn’t even bother lookin’ for me, would ya?” The Spine’s annoyed expression shifted to one of amused resignation, and Rabbit knew he had won. “I knew it. Now, go hide yourself, and mind you hide good.”

The Spine pushed himself out of his chair and left the room. “Count to fifty,” he called. “The chair is base.”

Rabbit grinned and covered his photo-receptors. “Here we go!” he called. “One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand, four!”

The hiss of The Spine’s pneumatics faded from his hearing.”Five one-thousand, six one-thousand, seven one-thousand, more!” Rabbit paused.  He couldn’t remember if there was more to the counting chant. And the counting part was boring anyway. Might as well skip to the end. “F-forty nine, fifty! Ready or not, here I come!”

Rabbit took his hands away from his face and darted out of the room. He couldn’t see The Spine, which meant that he was hiding properly. Good.

The copper robot crept down the hallway, trying to go slow enough that his joints stayed quiet. He knew The Spine would be doing the same. The question was, where would he be? A dark place would make the most sense. Strangely enough, every room on this floor seemed dark, except for the one he had just left.

Rabbit peered quizzically into a few of the rooms, his photo-receptors lighting them and showing them empty, before he spotted — yes! There, down the hallway, the brim of a fedora whipping out of sight through another doorway.

Rabbit dimmed his photo-receptors as he crept down the hallway; finding The Spine would be more fun in the dark. He entered the room and made a clicking sound. The sound echoed back to him distantly, and he knew that the room was a big one.

He stepped inside and was immediately engulfed in an unnatural inky darkness. That didn’t bother him very much; such things were normal in the manor.

"I’m gonna find you, Spine. Come out come out wherever you are." Rabbit moved slowly forward, arms outstretched. He kept one eye on the bright rectangle of light that was the doorway, just in case the other robot made a run for it.

Silence was everywhere, save for the sound of Rabbit’s creaking joints, and a hum that he thought might be The Spine’s core, though it sounded a little strange, more like a buzz, really. Rabbit made his way toward the sound, but it moved too much for him to triangulate it.

The buzz-hum got louder, but he still couldn’t find it, and it was starting to unnerve him. “Spine? Hey, Spine, run a little quieter, this is really w-w-weirding me out.” The other robot made no reply. The buzz-hum got louder still. It seemed to be everywhere.

Rabbit laughed nervously. “Hey, Spine, cut it out. I know I’m laughin’, but it’s really not funny now.” He made to back out of the room, but accidentally backed into a wall. The buzz-hum got louder still.

He was too nervous to talk. He pinged Spine over the wi-fi.  _-Spine, I’m serious, stop with the buzzing.-_

 _-What are you talking about? What buzzing?-_  The Spine’s answer confused him. Surely he knew.

_-That buzzing, you know.-_

_-Rabbit, where are you?-_  The question sounded serious, and it dismayed him more than anything else had.

_-I’m - I’m in the same room as you… aren’t I?-_

_-No, Rabbit.-_  If the copper automaton had had blood, it would have run cold. He wasn’t going to panic. He thought he felt the wall shifting against his back.

_-Then who’s in here with me?-_

The wall was definitely shifting. _-Rabbit, get out!-_  The Spine yelled, and Rabbit bolted, but the wall — _that was no wall_  — caught him. He felt himself being lifted up, felt a metallic hand scrabble at the back of his neck.

"SPINE! SPINE HE—!" Another hand clamped over his mouth, and the hand at the back of his neck found his stasis switch. He heard The Spine calling frantically over the wi-fi, and felt a moment of panic.

Then The Skull flicked his stasis switch, and he didn’t feel anything.


	28. Steve, Tony, and Bowling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark and Steve Negrete going bowling and talking shop. And by shop I mean superheroes and robutts. (Prompted by allaboardthessfriendship)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special appearance by the Avengers Movie!verse. Take this as a shout-out to Exdraghunt's really excellent fanfic, Way Home. http://archiveofourown.org/works/691681/chapters/1271205

They’d hit if off the last time the robots had come to visit with Captain Rogers. Not in any romantic sense, but more in the sense of they had a few things to talk about. Mostly robotics, but sometimes other things. So, when Stark had invited Steve out to shoot the breeze away from the others, Steve had said yes.

After all, how often someone get to go bowling with a genius billionaire?

Steve was winning by a few points, courtesy of a couple of strikes early on in the game and the fact that Stark was a terrible bowler. He pulled another good frame with a spare. “You’ve gotta up your game, man.”

The other man snorted as he took his turn. “I’m playing on my home turf, and I can’t even defend it properly. This is getting stupid.”

As Steve watched, Stark took up his stance and bowled a gutter ball. That was the third time it had happened, and he snickered at the frustrated look on Tony’s face.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?" The computer voice came from nowhere, but the only thing that startled Steve about it was that it sounded so smooth, and completely unlike QWERTY.

"Raise the bumpers, JARVIS."

The bumpers went up, and Tony shot Steve a look daring him to tease. Steve raised his eyebrows and grinned, saying nothing.

The billionaire bowled again and managed to get a seven-ten split to finish off the frame. He grumped back to the couches and sat, picking up his martini glass and taking a swig. Steve went over to join him.

"Okay," Tony said as Steve took a seat, "I don’t bowl that much."

"And you’ve got a bowling alley because…?"

"Steve likes bowling. Rogers, not you."

Steve nodded. “We don’t actually have to finish the game if you don’t want to.”

Stark snorted. “Oh, please, you don’t have to be nice to me.”

"I’m just saying, you don’t have to watch me kick your can from here to Bermuda if you don’t want to."

Tony glared at Steve over his glass, then drained it. “Yeah, okay. JARVIS, stop the game.”

"If you wish, sir. Shall I print out the scores?"

Tony scowled. “No.”

"Don’t want to see your embarrassment, sir?"

"Shut up, JARVIS." The AI was silent, and Tony smiled to himself. "Robots, man. We both deal with ‘em day in and day out, but yours aren’t so annoying, I bet."

Steve snickered. “Try dealing with Rabbit on a bad day. He’s always on his best behavior over here, and I think it’s just because he and Captain Rogers go way back.”

"Is that all that’s between him and total chaos?"

"That and The Spine. And even then… I mean, you saw him with the blender." Both men shuddered. Rabbit had grown very attached to the dubbed ‘Lucille.’ Nobody was quite sure how that relationship had really developed, but Rabbit had walked out of the tower with that blender and never looked back.

"Yeah," Tony remarked, "I hid my new one this time. Things always get a bit weirder with you guys around, no offense."

Steve raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Really. Like no one ever makes things weird around here?”

"Not in the same way. Because sentient robots aren’t anyone’s usual fare. Except yours. The weirdest we get is… well, it’s a full-scale invasion, but other than that, it’s Steve or Thor trying to figure out how to use my kitchen." Tony grinned at a memory. "Good times."

Steve grinned as he tried to imagine Thor being confounded by silly mortal technology. It was an entertaining notion. Almost as funny as the memory of Rabbit trying out the tower’s kitchen… Though that came with a different set of problems.

"But hey, if it’s not one thing, it’s another, am I right? Of course I am." Tony set his martini glass down and stood up. "Though, now that I think of it, I don’t think I locked the kitchen… I should have. JARVIS, did I lock the kitchen?"

"No, sir."

Tony and Steve exchanged glances. “Lock it, JARVIS.”

"I cannot, sir, it is currently occupied by Rabbit and Captain Rogers."

The two men were out of the bowling alley before the AI had finished.


	29. The Matter Management Mistress

Rabbit wasn’t happy. Bunny was back from her extended vacation, and she was determined to get him into the workshop for a tune up. He had hid, then struggled, and finally been reduced to whining as the Matter Management Mistress dragged him into the workshop and propped him up on a stool.

"Boy, that vacation didn’t mellow you out at  _all,_ " Rabbit huffed miserably as Bunny took her drill to his back plate. She didn’t reply, but he was used to that. Of course, he remembered when she  _could_  talk, but she hadn’t been a ‘she’ then. The change didn’t bother anyone, and at least now she couldn’t grumble at him.

 _Rrrrr. Rrrrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr._  The drill buzzed against his back, and it felt like a massage. He had always liked this part, but he wasn’t about to tell  _her_  that. “P-p-Paige does this way better.”

The drill continued for a minute, as Bunny worked her way down his back, then stopped. The mime came around to his front, and lowered her goggles as she knelt to open his chassis. The front panels of his chest slid back, and her face was bathed in blue light from his core.

She pulled one of her specialized tools from her tool belt. (Rabbit didn’t know what they were called, and frankly, he didn’t want to.) He huffed as he leaned back. This part was always unpleasant, even when Paige did it. With Bunny, he was sure it would be worse.

Bunny shot him a glare, and tugged on his arm, pulling him upright again. She lowered her hand in toward his core. Her tool buzzed around it, and Rabbit couldn’t suppress a shudder. It felt worse then he remembered. She must have noticed, because the buzzing stopped shortly after that. She leaned back and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

Rabbit shot another jibe at her. “Paige wouldn’t ‘a done it on that se-setting. She does it on a lower one, so it’s not as bad.”

Bunny quirked an eyebrow, frowned, and then moved back in toward his core. Her tool buzzed again… on a lower setting. It felt better, and he almost relaxed, but then it increased again. On the bright side, she pulled out of his core much faster on that setting than Paige ever did on hers, and he felt better for it. But he was damned if he’d let Bunny know  _that._

That was the problem; Bunny was an expert. She knew what she was doing, and she did it well. For all his complaints, he walked away feeling better when she worked on him.

He complained anyway. Bunny worked around it all silently, as usual. She tuned up his core, his joints, and cleaned some of the corrosion from his plates where it interfered with his movement. She inspected his boiler, patched his leaks, and through it all he complained that Paige was better, much better, and prettier, too.

Finally she tapped him on the shoulder, her signal that she was done and Rabbit was free to go. He happily hopped off the stool and headed toward the door, turning around to give Bunny one final jab. But what he saw wasn’t the silent, stoic Bunny he was used to. Her shoulders were drooped as she packed up her tools, her head hanging low.

Rabbit bit his lip. “Miss Bunny? You okay?”

Bunny gave no indication that she could hear him. Rabbit moved forward, and looked over the Matter Management Mistress’ shoulder at her face. She wasn’t crying, which he knew was good. She didn’t even really look all that sad. She looked him in the eye, then held up what she was looking at and waved it in front of his photo-receptors.

It was a picture of Paige from the employee personnel files. She was smiling in the photo, every inch the adorable Walter Girl he knew and loved. Bunny lowered the picture again and raised her eyebrows at him.

"Y-y-yeah, she’s usually who works on me," Rabbit answered.

Bunny shot him another look, a skeptical grin. Rabbit didn’t blush, but a bit of steam hissed from his vents. “Yeah, she _is_  cute. So what?”

The Walter Girl turned the picture over. Written on the back was a question.

_Can I meet her?_


	30. "I didn’t clean up…"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue only.

"…I didn’t clean up after myself."

"I noticed. I wish I could say that’s the worst thing I’ve seen, but we both know it isn’t."

"I - I didn’t mean to."

"I’m sure you didn’t, Rabbit, but that doesn’t change anything now."

"I couldn’t help it."

"I know. You were scared; it was only natural that you would want to defend him."

"…Spine, do you think that maybe you could help me with this?"

"I guess I’ll have to. You couldn’t handle this mess on your own."

"I tried, but the smell w-was-"

"The smell? Rabbit, is that all?"

"…No. I didn’t like lookin’ at all the… the…"

"I know. That’s why I’m helping."

"Thanks."

"…"

"…Looks different now, now that-"

"Yeah."

"Do you think we’ll ever get the stains out?"

"We’ll manage."

"…Spine, what’s g-g-gonna happen now?"

"I don’t know."

"What do you think?"

"I don’t think anything. Just keep quiet for now. We’ll figure things out."

"We can’t aff-afford to get sued again."

"We won’t."

"You sure?"

"No. Please just be quiet, Rabbit."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…She never shoulda come here."

"…"

"She never shoulda tried to take one of us."

"…"

"You’d think they would know that we woulda upped our security after last time."

"Rabbit, stop."

"I’m just sayin’-"

"Stop."

"Becile Industries is gonna-"

"They won’t know. They lose people all the time."

"I think they’ll know about this one."

"Not if we don’t tell anyone. You don’t have fingerprints; they can’t trace it to us."

"…I wish she hadn’t come here. She really shouldn’t have."

"She shouldn’t have, no. But she did. And you did what you had to."

"…"

"Rabbit?"

"But I could’ve stopped. I think I could’ve if I’d tried. But she had Jon, and…"

"…"

"…Jon’s gonna go away for a while. You knew he was going to anyway, but he’s leaving sooner now. ‘Cause of this."

"I thought he might."

"I think he’s afraid of me now."

"Nonsense, Rabbit, he’s seen you do worse than this."

"Not to a real person."

"…The elephant drivers  _were_  real people.”

"They never felt real. Not real like this. And things were different then, anyhow… So Jon’s afraid of me."

"…"

"I’ll be quiet now."

"Okay."


	31. Unusual Behaviours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spine swarmed by flamingos….and he is not amused. (Prompted by spgworld)

It happened sometimes, without warning. The Spine was outside, near the duck pond, when he heard the signs: The ruffles of feathers, the splashing in the pond, and the infuriated quacking of the ducks.

He immediately regretted his decision to accompany Rabbit to the pond.

The copper robot, for his part, grinned excitedly as the flamingos made their way along the waterline toward them. The Spine thought he detected a bit of schadenfruede present in that grin, but he couldn’t really tell Rabbit off for it. From his perspective, it probably looked pretty funny.

The flock swarmed The Spine, herding him out into the water, nudging him with their necks and heads. The Spine held as still as he could, letting them prod him without getting tipped over. He didn’t know why they kept flocking to him now and again, but experience told him to wait for a few minutes until they resumed their normal behavior pattern.

He could hear Rabbit chuckling on the bench behind him as he was mobbed by the large pink birds. “Maybe you should do what you did last time. Th-th-that worked all right.” The Spine looked back at him and grimaced. Rabbit grinned wider and made a shooing motion with his hand. “Go on, Spine. I p-promise I won’t tell anyone.”

The Spine took a deep breath, then tucked his arms at his sides like a bird’s wings, tucked one leg up under his body, and extended his neck until it swooped gracefully around above his shoulders at a flamingo’s length. He hated this; it made him look ridiculous.

The flamingos stopped swarming him immediately, and went back to their normal behavior, searching for food in the shallow water. The Spine cautiously made his way out of the water, walking like a bird, and returned to the bench where Rabbit sat.

The copper robot was laughing so hard he thought his boiler would rupture. “Aha! Ahahahahaha! Whoooo boy, Spine! Ahahahaha!”

"Shut up, Rabbit," The Spine growled. Rabbit didn’t seem to hear him, and went right on laughing. The silver robot sighed, and made his slow way up toward the manor, waiting until the pond was out of sight to start walking as he usually did.


	32. Pappy’s Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory Father's Day post, 2013

"Pappy!"

"Pappy!"

"Sir, look out!"

Colonel Walter turned just in time to see two robots racing toward him, arms wide, with two more running and shouting frantically behind. He ducked.

The running stopped just in front of him. He glanced up from the floor and saw two pairs of feet.

"Pappy, are you okay?" That was Rabbit, leaning down, offering an arm. His first, the trial run. The eldest, though it never seemed that way.

He took Rabbit’s offered arm as the other two robots came to join the group, looking concerned.

"Are you alright, sir? I tried to get them to slow down, but…" The Spine, his second attempt. More of an older brother than Rabbit, when he thought about it. He was the mediator, the middle child.

"We didn’t mean to scare you, Pappy, we were just excited." The golden robot beamed at him. His third creation didn’t have a name yet, but he never seemed to mind that. He was the strange child, so often he seemed like the youngest, and yet…

Colonel Walter nodded. “I understand, boys. Now, what is it that’s gotten you all excited?”

The mustachioed robot smiled. “It is Father’s Day, Pappy.” The other robots smiled, too, even The Spine, but Colonel Walter kept his focus on Hatchworth for the moment. For all the bronze robot had been through, he seemed happy in his new life as a butler. Thank goodness the original three had seen fit to let Hatchworth in on their shenanigans.

Colonel Walter smiled indulgently. “Is it really? I’d forgotten.” He should have guessed, really. The boys had been secretive for days.

Number Three bounced on his heels. “We all did something, and it’s finished now. Come and see it, please please please please?” The other automatons looked at him expectantly.

Colonel Walter nodded, and Three and Rabbit whooped, leading the group down the labyrinth of hallways, while The Spine and Hatchworth stayed behind as an escort.

"Can one of you give me a hint as to what this surprise is?"

"Oh no, sir," The Spine replied, "I’ll only say that we all had a hand in it."

"Hatchworth, will you tell me anything?" The bronze robot only smiled.

He noticed that they were leading him to the third ballroom. He thought he was beginning to get the shape of everything, but he could still be wrong. They had surprised him before.

Rabbit waited by the doors, one of them partially opened. Light spilled into the hallway as Three stuck his head out of the room. “Come on, come on, it’s gonna be great!”

Rabbit grabbed Colonel Walter’s wrist - gently - and smiled. “Close your eyes, Pa-Pappy.”

The Colonel obliged, and allowed himself to be led into the room. He heard the Spine say “alright, sir, you can open your eyes now.” The first thing he saw were the streamers. Then the balloons. And then the cake.

"SURPRISE!" The robots stood in front of him, smiling.

Three was bouncing up and down as though he had springs in his shoes. "Do you like it? We all worked really hard planning everything."

Colonel Walter laughed. “I’m sure you did! It’s wonderful. But, tell me, who did what?”

"Well, we all had the idea together," The Spine replied, "but I did most of the planning. Rabbit and Three decorated—"

"W-w-we did out very best," Rabbit interrupted, and Three nodded fervently.

"—And Hatchy made the cake."

The bronze robot smiled modestly. "I hope you like it."

"We  _all_  hope you like it,” The Spine said.

"We hope you like  _everything_ ,” Rabbit added.

He felt a smile forming on his face. “Oh, boys,” Pappy said as he pulled the four of them in for a hug, “I love it.”


	33. A Prank Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rabbit prank calls Becile Industries. (Prompted by enigmaharper)

The phone was ringing. She didn’t want to answer - it was her lunch break, damn it - but there was no one else in the office. She sighed and picked up the phone.

"Thank you for calling Becile Industries. How can I help you?"

A tinny voice sounded from the speaker. “Do you have Prince Albert in a can?”

Oh, god, not one of these. “No, sir.”

"Well, you’d better—! Oh." The voice paused. "Um… Is your refrigerator running?"

She wasn’t sure why she didn’t just hang up, but something kept her talking. “We keep it chained up, sir, so even if it’s running, it’s not going anywhere.”

"What? Keepin’ a poor, innocent fridge from running free! That fridge has thoughts and feelings, you know! Maybe it  _wants_  to run somewhere, did ya ever think about that?”

The genuine distress in the caller’s voice piqued her interest. She decided to forgo her sandwich and play along. “I never did think about that, sir. But it would be inconvenient if it just ran off with all of our food in it.”

"It wouldn’t run away if you treated it ni-nicely."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah!" The caller’s voice got more animated as he spoke. "Ya oughta treat all your machines with the respect they deserve! We’re — I m-m-mean, they’re nice to you if you’re nice to them."

Her intrest sharpened further. “Are you a—?”

"No!" The answer came too quickly, and she knew, then, that there was an automaton on the other line. She couldn’t scare him away from the phone, so she quickly recovered.

"Right, I didn’t think so, but I was just checking." As she spoke, she began tracing the call. If it was from Walter Manor, they couldn’t do anything, but anywhere outside was fair game.

"Uh huh." The robot sounded unconvinced. "Why would you have to do that?"

She sighed dramatically into the phone. “Oh, you know how it is. Sometimes we get the odd robotic prank call-” she could almost hear the robot stiffening guiltily “-and we don’t really tolerate those here. Most people aren’t campaigning to free refrigerators and the like.”

"They should."

"Maybe you’re right. I’ll endeavor to treat our refrigerator with more respect in the future. Can I do anything else for you, sir?" The trace was still running. It had narrowed to the Temecula area, but there was no specific signal yet.

"Um… No? Thanks, though, for puttin’ up with me. Most people just get mad."

She smiled. “Most people aren’t working for a company prided on their excellent customer service.” The trace hadn’t completed, but she thought she could hold the robot for another minute.

"I bet the customer service is about the only thing that’s worth pri—" There was a loud blast from the other end of the line, and the trace jammed, the instruments citing Blue Matter interference. She heard a voice scream "No!" and then the line went dead.


	34. Post-Temecula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter VI must physically accompany the band to a concert for the first time. (Prompted by geeknip)

_He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to—_

Peter tried to put his own preferences out of his mind. They weren’t important at present; the important thing was to be on hand. The Spine had said he wasn’t feeling well lately, and this time there were no replacements to be found, and no time for a thorough scan of his systems. So, in the event that something went very wrong, Peter would have to come along in order to fix it.

Everyone hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but there was no harm in being too careful.

Still, it was a nerve-wracking prospect to consider. He hadn’t been out in public much even before the Temecula Incident, and he certainly hadn’t been out since then. So, while everyone else packed up, Peter sat on the steps in the foyer with his head in his hands, trying to stiffen his resolve.

"Are you okay, Peter?" Michael was standing over him looking concerned.

"I’m fine," Peter replied shortly, too forcefully.

The engineer sat down beside him. “Are you sure?”

Peter nodded, saying nothing. He didn’t trust himself to lie convincingly just then.

"You don’t seem fine."

Peter remained silent. He didn’t look at Michael; couldn’t look, didn’t want to see the pity he knew would be there.

"You don’t want to go out in public, do you." It was worded like a question, but it wasn’t one. Michael knew how antisocial he had been before, and how much worse it was now. He had been with the Walters for a long time.

There was no getting around it. “…If I’m honest, no. And before you start saying I shouldn’t, I’d like to point out that I made this choice myself, and I do have reasons behind it.”

Michael put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I wasn’t going to talk you out of it, Petes. I know why you’re coming, and frankly, if worst comes to worst, I want you there.” Peter looked up then, and saw that Michael was smiling. “We can only hope that nothing serious happens, but there’s really no reason to be nervous.”

"I’m not nervous." Michael raised an eyebrow. "I’m  _not._  I just… They all know what happened, and they’re all going to look at me like I ought to be pitied, and I’ll hate it.”

Michael stood up and offered Peter his hand. “If that’s what bothers you, then we’ll just forget to mention that you came with us at all. Maybe they’ll never have to know you were here; you can just stand in the back and watch the show from there.” He pulled Peter up with a grunt. “Now, get to the van. We’re ready to go.”

——

The concert was going well from where he was standing. The bits were making the audience laugh, the instruments were in tune, and the robots, from what he could tell, weren’t malfunctioning any more than usual.

And he was enjoying himself, watching in the wings. He was enjoying the performance, and the people. There were a lot of people, and a fair number of them had dressed up for the occasion. The others had told him that they would, but it was still amusing, and amazing, to see how good their costumes were. The makeup on some of them was so convincing he had half a mind to check and see if there were real robots in the audience, hidden away among the crowd.

His attention snapped back to the performance as the robots transitioned into Suspender Man. The Spine had begun to twitch, small, jerky motions that jarred with his usual smooth movements. Rabbit and Hatchworth were casting worried glances at him, but he soldiered on with the routine. It was when Rabbit sang the opening notes and the thunder clapped that things began to go very wrong.

The Spine’s arm sparked with blue electricity, and he stopped moving voluntarily as bolts began to shoot from his tesla coil, arcing over the stage and the audience. Matt and Michael ducked; the audience screamed. Peter ran.

He ducked through the arcs of lightning and made his way toward The Spine, reaching to flick his stasis switch, powering him off. He was wearing gloves, but that didn’t fully insulate him from the shock.

The Spine’s tesla coil still sparked. Peter grabbed a tool from his belt and drilled it into the robot’s shoulder until the electricity stopped completely. By that time, the audience had stopped screaming, and were all muttering amongst themselves. “Is that Peter?” “It is!” “Oh my god, Peter!”

He looked around The Spine’s shoulder, back toward Steve at the sound board. The sound engineer was looking at him in dismay. Peter made what he thought was the “kill” gesture, and Steve immediately cut the lights as Hatchworth and Rabbit carried The Spine off the stage.

——

Later in the green room, The Spine was awake, and being thoroughly berated.

"This wasn’t a simple malfunction, Spine! People could have been killed!" Peter worked furiously on the robot’s arm, punctuating each phrase with a well placed buzz. "This was not-"  _zzzz_  “-the damage of one or two days!”  _zzzz_  “This has been deteriorating-“ _zzzz zzz_  “-for a month or more, and you didn’t tell me-”  _zzzz_  “-when I could have still fixed it quickly.”

"I’m sorry, sir."

"Sorry?"  _zzzz_  “You will be! I’m going to-”  _zzz zzzzzzzz_  “-have to keep you in the shop for-”  _zzzz_  “- _weeks_  to fix this!” Peter sat back and ran a hand through his hair. “You should have told me about this weeks ago, in fact! Why didn’t you?”

"I didn’t want to worry—" The Spine began.

Peter cut him off. “This is more of a worry, damn it. Not talking makes it worse.”

"You don’t understand."

Peter threw up his hands. “What don’t I understand?” The Spine stayed quiet.

Michael tapped him on the shoulder. “Peter… He noticed the damage when you were in the hospital. He  _couldn’t_  tell you then, and we needed to let you recuperate afterward. You weren’t in any condition to fix anything.” He shuffled his feet. “I did my best, but I can only do so much. We didn’t realize just how bad it was.”

Peter put his hands to his forehead and wished that he still had temples to rub. As it was, he let them flop to his sides again and sighed. Of course. It all came back to the Temecula Incident.

Eventually he spoke again. "Everything’s as fixed as I can make it now. It shouldn’t spark again, and you’ll be able to perform the rest of the show. But when we get back to the manor, report straight to the workshop, understood?"

The Spine stood and nodded, reaching for his shirt. “Understood.”

——

Nobody saw Peter after the impromptu intermission. However The Spine, it seemed, was alright, and the rest of the show went perfectly, so nobody worried.

After the show was a different story. Everyone wanted to know what had happened to Peter, if they would see him, if he would come to any more shows. They questioned the robots and the engineers, repeating the same queries over and over until the answers they received sounded rote.

They didn’t know what Peter would do. They didn’t know at all.

——

"The fans were asking about you all night."

Peter looked up from his seat against the side of the van. Michael was standing over him once again, a curious reenactment of the scene from that afternoon.

"Were they? What did they want to know?"

"They wanted to know if you would come to more shows." Michael sat down heavily. "They want to get to know you."

Peter sighed. “If I have my way, there won’t be a need for me to come to anymore shows. God forbid that one of them malfunctions like that again. I’ll keep them in top shape.”

"Peter."

"They’ll have weekly tune ups. The Walter Girls can manage the cores, of course, and you the body, but they should be inspected by me, thoroughly."

"Peter."

"Okay, maybe inspected once a month instead of once a week, but if anything goes wrong again, they had better come to me first, damn it."

“ _Peter._ ”

Peter glanced at the other man. “What?”

Michael took a deep breath. “Did you hear what I said?”

"Yes."

"They want to get to know you, Peter."

This time Peter took a deep breath. “Why?”

"I think they think you’re interesting. They want to know about you. And they didn’t really seem to pity you at all, you know. They were more awestruck by you."

Peter turned to face Michael. “Really?”

The engineer grinned. “Really. I think they were very impressed.”

"Hm." Peter considered this. "I’m still not the most social of people. They probably wouldn’t like to see too much of me."

"I don’t know about that."

"Well, if they really want to see me," Peter said as he stood and brushed himself off, "I might show up to a few more shows. Maybe."

Michael ignored Peter’s offered hand and stood. “‘Maybe’ sounds promising.”

"It doesn’t mean anything."

"I think it does. But you can think whatever you want. Now, come on, we’ve got to help pack up."


	35. Pug On The Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David being late for a thing because of a pug on the street. (Prompted by meefgal)

"Where  _is_  he?” Bunny demanded. They had been waiting on David for the past half hour, and everyone’s patience was running thin.

Steve was pacing… if you counted repeatedly running up the same wall as ‘pacing.’ Michael and Matt were talking among themselves. Sam was fiddling with his bass, though it didn’t do much good as he had already tuned it.

The rehearsal wasn’t happening on schedule. They had all arrived early, and David had elected to go for a brief walk. That had been forty minutes ago. He had called five minutes in and said he was on his way back to the rehearsal space.

It was hard not to worry. Bunny paced up and down the space. She had tried his cell phone again five minutes later and been greeted by his voicemail. After ten minutes she had tried again. David had answered and mentioned that he was a caught up with something. He hadn’t sounded distressed, so she told him to get to rehearsal. He had said he would try to be there soon, and that had been the last anyone had heard of him.

Clearly, he wasn’t trying hard enough. And Bunny wasn’t even sure he wasn’t in some kind of trouble. She had spent the last five minutes debating with herself, and finally come to a decision.

"I’m going to go look for him."

The rest of the band elected to stay behind, should David come back.

Bunny walked around the perimeter of the building, looking for the impossibly skinny frame of her brother. After two minutes, she found it.

He was stooped over a small object. Closer inspection revealed that it was a pug, and it was panting in the June heat. David was scratching its head and talking to it matter-of-factly. “Your person is going to show up any minute. I called them fifteen minutes ago and they said they were on their way, so they’ll be here soon.”

Bunny cleared her throat, and David looked up. “Oh, hey Bunny. What’s up?”

"This is why you’re late? A pug?" Bunny folded her arms and glared. "I was worried, you know."

David shrugged. “He was lost. We’re just waiting until his person shows up. They should be here soon.”

Bunny scowled at the creature, then watched as the pug wandered over to her and sniffed her shoes. It looked up at her and panted, then wagged it’s curly tail like a flag.

David straightened up and stretched, moaning. The stooping wasn’t good for his back. “I think he likes you.”

Bunny unfolded her arms, then leaned down to scratch the pug behind the ears.”We really can’t wait for this. It’s a pug.”

David shrugged again. “You don’t have to, but I think I will.”

The pug looked from one face to the other, then licked Bunny’s hand and wuffed.

The Bennetts were late to rehearsal by ten minutes.


	36. A Stupid Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spine and Rabbit arguing over the stupidest thing I could think of. (Prompted by thebadgersnacksatmidnight)

"Hey, Spiiiiiiiine." The Spine looked up from his novel to find Rabbit pointing at him. His finger was about an inch from the silver bot’s nose.

The Spine sighed. “What?”

Rabbit grinned. “I’m not touching yoooooou.”

Not this again. “Rabbit, this is stupid.”

Rabbit held up his other hand, and both pointer fingers drew small circles in the air. “I’m still not touching yoooooou.”

The Spine held up one finger. Rabbit immediately stopped what he was doing and stared at it. The Spine pointed his finger at his brother, his expression never changing from completely deadpan. “Hey, look, Rabbit, I’m not touching you either.”

Rabbit looked scandalized. ”S-s-s-stop that.”

The Spine allowed himself to grin slightly. “I’m not touching you, Rabbit.”

"Stop it!" The copper robot stamped his foot. "That’s my thing! I do that! Y-y-y-you’re not allowed!"

"Why not?" The Spine put his hand down and raised an eyebrow.

“‘Cuz you’re the serious one, that’s why!” Rabbit folded his arms. “The serious one ain’t allowed to d-do somethin’ silly like that.”

The Spine’s eyebrow arched higher. “Really.”

Rabbit nodded authoritatively. “Yeah. So, I do the silly stuff; you’ve just gotta be the straight man, see?”

"I see, Rabbit. But I don’t think that you’re right."

Rabbit sniffed. “I’m totally right. I’m the expert on comedy, ya know.”

"No, you’re not."

"Yeah, I am!" The copper robot huffed steam. "I’m the expert; I’ve got all the funny jokes in the act. All you’ve g-g-got is that monologue about dysentery."

The Spine sighed. “Right, Rabbit, you don’t have the funny jokes.  _Everyone_  has funny jokes, not just you.”

"People laugh most at me."

"That’s because—"

"That’s. ‘Cuz. I’m. Funny. Spine." Rabbit punctuated each word with a jab to The Spine’s shoulder.

"No," The Spine said impatiently. "That’s because you act like a fool up on stage."

The copper robot nodded. “That’s my job. I do the silly stuff. Which is why you can’t do the whole ‘silly response to my silly action’ thing.”

The Spine shifted in his chair, as though he were preparing to vacate it, but he remained seated. “We’re not on stage, Rabbit.”

"Doesn’t matter, Spine. That’s just the way—" Rabbit stopped mid sentence at the look on the Spine’s face.

The silver bot was grinning like a shark. “But I’m still not touching you, Rabbit.”

Rabbit looked down. The Spine’s hand was half and inch from his side. He looked up at his brother, his expression mimicking a deer caught in the headlights. “Y-y-you wouldn’t dare.”

"Oh, but I would."

The elder robot gulped. “Spine, don’t do it.”

The Spine leaned forward. “Don’t do what?”

"Don’t touch meeeeeeeee!" Rabbit skittered away from The Spine’s hand, but The Spine’s finger followed his movement, inching closer, closer—

Rabbit bolted out of the room and ran through the manor, with The Spine following close behind.


	37. Before Three AM

Hatchworth was looking through the manor for company. He hadn’t seen anyone for what seemed like a few hours, and being alone made him uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t quite define.

After a few more searches through rooms he hadn’t seen before, he finally found The Spine in a library. There was something strange about the library, but that was irrelevant. “The Spine!”

The silver robot turned. “Yes, Hatchworth?”

"The Spine, let’s play game!" Hatchworth trotted over to where The Spine stood and bounced slightly on the balls of his feet.

The tall automaton smiled indulgently down at him. “How about hide-and-seek? We’ll just play it in this room, there’s plenty of places to go.”

Hatchworth didn’t like hide-and-seek. Usually when The Spine suggested it, it meant he wanted to be left alone. But the bronze robot still went and hid as the Spine closed his photo-receptors, though he didn’t put much effort into it. He stood behind a skinny lamp that couldn’t possibly hide him, hoping to make The Spine laugh. Then they could play something else.

The Spine turned around and looked directly at him. Hatchworth grinned at him. “Can you see me, The Spine, or am I invisible?”

The silver automaton’s photo-receptors showed no signs of recognition. “Hatchworth? Where did you go?”

Hatchworth watched as The Spine turned his head left and right, looking confused. “The Spine,” he called. “The Spine, I am right here. I am behind this lamp.”

The silver robot still wasn’t looking at him. Hatchworth stepped out from behind the lamp, feeling the smile slide off his face. “Look! The Spine! The Spine! I am right here! Let’s play another game now, please.”

The Spine turned his head toward the doorway. “Rabbit?”

The copper robot stuck his head into the room. “Yeah?”

"Have you seen Hatchworth anywhere?"

Rabbit looked from side to side, his eyes momentarily resting on Hatchworth before returning to The Spine, looking confused. “Who’s that? I dunno anyone called Hatchworth. Why’re you asking me?”

Hatchworth shook slightly. Clearly they were trying to play a trick on him. He tried to smile, and waved. “But I am right here, Rabbit!”

Then Hatchworth felt his boiler run cold as he saw The Spine shrug. “I don’t remember. Maybe I just imagined him… I thought we were playing a game.”

Rabbit snickered. “Spine, it sounds like you’ve knocked a few circuits loose. You imagining stuff, that’s weird.”

"Rabbit! The Spine! Please!" Hatchworth felt the beginnings of panic. "Please, stop playing this joke! It is not funny!"

The other two robots kept talking as if they couldn’t hear him. Hatchworth no longer cared what they were saying. He ran at the two of them, waving his hands, poking them wherever he could reach.

"The Spine! Rabbit! Please! I am not invisible! I am still here! I am still—!" They ignored him. The Spine made a gesture, and Hatchworth was pushed into a corner. His brothers walked away from him, leaving him in the dark. The walls began to advance on him, the vault springing into being around him.

Hatchworth began to scream. “RABBIT! THE SPINE! HELP ME! SOMEONE! PETER? STEVE? MICHAEL?” The vault held no answers, it just got smaller and smaller around him. The screams began to hurt his head. “Please!” Hatchworth cried. “Please, don’t leave me here alone! I am still here! I am still here! I—!”

——

Hatchworth tumbled out of his cabinet, thrashing about on the kitchen floor for a few moments before finally settling again. He lay still for a few moments, gazing up at the ceiling.

He’d had the nightmares off and on for several weeks now. It was starting to wear on him. They began differently, but always ended that way. They had decreased somewhat when he had moved from sleeping in his room to sleeping in an empty kitchen cabinet, though he wasn’t sure why.

Eventually Hatchworth sat up again, and checked the time. It was two thirty in the morning. There was no point in trying to go back into stasis now - he wouldn’t manage to get any more rest. The question was, what to do.

Eventually, he decided to make cookies. Maybe if he made enough noise someone would join him; but at the very least, he reasoned, they would have to acknowledge his existence at breakfast.

[(What could this be a prequel to, I wonder?)](http://chibiwonder.tumblr.com/post/39020658890/it-was-three-am-in-walter-manor)


	38. Indy-Bot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spine as Indiana Jones. (Prompted by preciousgollum)

He liked the new fedora too much. He’d grown very attached to it in the short amount of time since he’d got it, and everyone in the manor had gotten a little tired of seeing it on his head in place of the normal black one.

Rabbit, who until this point had a penchant for stealing The Spine’s regular hat, had tried stealing this one. It hadn’t ended well; he still wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened when The Spine caught him, but he now watched the silver robot with a wary eye.

So did everyone else, but that was less because of the hat incident and more because of the bullwhip. Nobody knew how he acquired it, but they all became slightly more uneasy when it appeared at his hip.

It was when his speech patterns changed that it really became a problem. Suddenly his voice had become gruffer, his manner of speech more rugged. Suddenly the bullwhip wasn’t just an accessory — he used it. And he’d clearly been practicing.

Eventually the entire manor came to the consensus that  _someone_  had to talk to him. They drew straws, and it turned out that the someone was Steve.

Steve was sure it had been rigged, but he gritted his teeth and didn’t grumble (much) as he approached the silver bot, who was busily looking through one of their many libraries for a volume on Arthurian lore, for who knew what reason.

"So, hey, The Spine."

"What is it, Steve?"

"Uh…" The sound engineer scratched his neck as the robot looked down at him. Dressed in all his archeology gear, he looked pretty intimidating. "Have you, uh… Have you been going through our Blu-Ray collection?"

The Spine turned back to the bookshelf. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

"You’ve um… You’ve changed a bit. You’re not dressed like you… And you’ve gotten into habits that are…"

The Spine looked annoyed. “My god, man, say a full sentence.”

Steve gulped. “It’s just kind of unusual. I was wondering… I was wondering if maybe you had changed your programming parameters, or if something had affected—”

"I don’t know what you mean."

Steve snapped. “Have you been watching too much Indiana Jones or what, Spine? Not that it isn’t cool, but it’s kind of starting to get on everybody’s nerves, okay?”

The Spine blinked. “Oh.” His face twisted into something between embarrassment and glee. “I was hoping that someone would mention it soon; it was getting a little tiring to keep up with the charade.”

This time, Steve blinked. “What?”

"It was a joke. But I thought someone would get it eventually. What took everyone so long?"

"A… joke? Spine, you don’t play jokes."

"Not often Steve, but ever since I got the hat it’s been on my mind, so I decided ‘why not?’"

"Oh."

The Spine essayed a small grin at the engineer. “I’m actually quite enjoying myself, so if you could just keep mum about the whole thing for a while—”

Steve suddenly burst into a grin. “No problem, man. Do you maybe want to do target practice sometime? I mean, completely different weapons and all, but I want to see how good you are with that thing.” He indicated the bullwhip.

The Spine smiled and nodded. And so it was.


	39. Switcharoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Walter girls do mischief by switching up the parts of the robots. (Prompted by fanbot1126)

 

All of the robots were in maintenance, and in stasis. Paige and Carolina really hadn’t been able to help themselves. It took some convincing to get Bunny in on the plan (the lady was a consummate professional), but in the end she had helped, too.

They didn’t mean any harm; it was just a bit of fun. They would switch the robots back as soon as it stopped being funny. Or, at Bunny’s insistence, in an hour, whichever came first.

They were pretty sure it would be an hour. But the three of them, with quite a bit of elbow work, had managed to get Rabbit, Spine, and Hatchworth exactly how they wanted them. The Walter girls gave each other gleeful looks as they switched the automatons on.

Hatchy was the first one who noticed, and he immediately began to panic. “What? Where is my hatch?! My chest feels empty!”

"Not as empty as mine," The Spine said from his place on top of Hatchworth’s chest. "My legs feel strange, as well. I’ve never come out of maintenance with them feeling so stiff."

"M-m-my legs are funny, too," Rabbit said, kicking them out in front of him where he sat on his stool. "They feel shorter."

Hatchworth tried to stand. He managed it, but quickly sat down again. “I’m too tall. I don’t like being up that high.”

The Spine tried, tentatively, to stretch first one leg, and then the other. They creaked unnaturally. “They’re… the right height… Or nearly. But they feel… rusted.”

"Watch it, pal, those are my legs you’re talkin’ about," Rabbit said, having taken a good look at all three of them.

The Spine blinked. “Are they? Whose chest is this?”

"Mine, I think," Hatchworth volunteered. "And I am on top of Rabbit’s chest… With your legs."

"D-d-does that mean I have your legs, Hatchy? ‘Cuz I’m definitely on The Spine’s chest right now." Rabbit stood, slowly. "Yeah, definitely yours; it’s too short to be anyone else’s."

"Are you saying that I am short?" Hatchworth tried again to stand up. He wobbled and flung his arms out for balance. "Rabbit, your torso needs oiling."

Rabbit looked miffed. “I know. D-d-don’t have to shout it to the whole world.”

The Spine ventured a hand toward ‘his’ chest. Yes, there was the void. It felt stable, from where he was sitting, but he didn’t think he liked being in charge of it. He remained seated, trying to get used to the feel of his new (relatively speaking) arms and legs. He wiggled one arm, marveled at how short it felt, and then wiggled the other one.

Rabbit and Hatchworth wobbled around on their respective sets of legs, each of them growing slightly more used to the feeling. Rabbit waved one arm. “Spine, your arm is weird.”

"How do you mean?" The Spine asked as he finished his calibrations and stood up, wobbling much less than the other two.

"It moves really smoothly. Like, too much oil smooth."

"That’s because I do daily maintenance on myself, Rabbit. Unlike—" he lifted one foot with a creak "—some robots I could mention."

Rabbit pounded one fist into his hand. “Knock it off or I’ll beat you up w-w-with your own fists.”

"Fellas," Hatchworth said, holding on to a worktable for dear life, "you’re missing the point here. How did we end up like this?"

The three robots simultaneously looked a the back of the workroom, where the Walter Girls were quietly giggling themselves silly.

"I see," Rabbit said. "Wow, Paige, how could you do this to me? I thought you _l-l-liked_ me!”

Paige stopped giggling for a moment. “I do. I like you a lot, I just…” she gestured to the three of them and started giggling again.

"Mistress Bunny," The Spine said severely. The mime sobered at once. "I expected more professionalism from you."

Bunny bit her lip and cast a sidelong glance at Paige. Ah, so that was it.

"Miss Law, you’re a bad influence." Paige giggled again.

"Carolina?" Hatchworth asked. The third girl grinned at him and shrugged. Hatchworth’s mustache twitched a little. "That wasn’t a good joke, Carolina."

"Yes it was," she said, choking back her laughter at the incongruousness of Hatchworth’s head and Spine’s height. "But we’ll fix it now. It was starting to get boring anyway."

Rabbit huffed. “P-p-Paige, you shouldn’t work with Bunny anymore. You give her… ideas.”

The Walter Girls in question both snorted as they steered the robots back onto their stools. But they smiled at each other behind the robots’ backs as they got to work once again.


	40. Turtles

The zoo was hard on all of them. It was hot, it was long, and it was, for the most part, very boring. If you saw the zoo animal pens once, you saw them a thousand times.

But still the robots made their rounds between shows, when they weren’t powered down. All except The Jon, who made straight for the hula hoops and didn’t come back until call time (and sometimes not even then).

The Spine and Rabbit walked with Sam most days, making comments to one another about how  _this_  bird looked a bit like Steve and how  _that_  bird didn’t actually go anywhere because it was only a sculpture, Rabbit, get off now or we’ll leave you behind.

The reptile exhibit, however, was under construction, and they hadn’t gone in. Until now.

It was finally open to the public, and the three companions wandered into it in the hopes of seeing something new to look at.

In a few minutes, Rabbit was bored. “It’s all turtles an’ stuff right here. Why can’t we go look at the snakes?”

"We’ll get to the snakes later, Rabbit," The Spine replied patiently. "I’d like to look at the turtles right now."

"You’re almost as boring as they are." Rabbit nudged Sam. "Come on, back me up here. Snakes are cool, right?"

Sam shrugged. “Yeah. But turtles are alright. I’m just glad to see something new.”

Rabbit huffed. “Guuyyyyys! I wanna see the snakes. I’m going on without you.”

The Spine turned. “The last time you did that, you ended up turning yourself in at Lost Property just so we could find you.” He allowed himself a small grin at Rabbit’s disgruntled look and turned back toward the turtles.

He didn’t see the shove coming. The next thing he knew he was falling and looking up at Sam leaning over the railing. Rabbit had his arms outstretched, looking shocked, like he hadn’t meant to push that hard. And then he landed face up in the water of the turtle pen. Being titanium, he sank immediately.

The Spine attempted to haul himself up into a sitting position. His clothes were waterlogged, but didn’t weigh him down that much. It was harder to move through water than it was air, but that also didn’t hamper him unduly. He hadn’t counted on the fact that there were turtles, however. They swarmed around him, greater in number than he had thought, looking at him curiously. They pressed in from all sides, swarming in a very un-turtlelike fashion.

He couldn’t really move without hitting one, and he was loathe to hurt them, so he sat and waited for a few minutes, until a zoo employee came to escort him out.


	41. The Incident With Strawberry Bubble Bath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The year is 1993, jsyk. Also, there's one tiny reference to Psilentasincelli's fanfic "Under Control," which you really ought to check out.

Jon didn’t really mean to snoop through Annie’s things. But the appearance of groceries on the kitchen table meant that she (Or someone else; Jon wasn’t exactly sure who did the shopping) had gotten good things to eat, and might have gotten some more Crystal Pepsi for him. They seemed to be buying a lot of Crystal Pepsi lately, Jon reflected as he rummaged through the countless bags on the table. Everyone kept saying something about it going away soon. He wondered why such a delicious soda would go away, especially since he needed it now, but that was a thought for another time.

There wasn’t any Crystal Pepsi that he could see, but there were a couple of bottles of something that smelled like strawberries. It didn’t look like food. That hadn’t stopped him before, but this stuff had the word “bath” written on it, and he was always looking for new bath toys. He decided to find The Spine.

Jon eventually tracked him to one of the smaller libraries, alphabetizing some of the books. The silver robot looked up when he entered. “What have you got there, The Jon?”

“I dunno!” Jon replied cheerfully, “but it smells nice!” He shoved the bottles into The Spine’s photoreceptors. “What’s this stuff, anyway?”

The Spine slowly shoved the bottles away from his face and studied them. “It’s bubble bath,” he said, in that tone that implied he would push his glasses up his nose if only he had some. “Scented bubble bath, to be more precise.”

“What do you do with it?”

“You put it in your bathwater to make bubbles appear. And smell nice, too, I suppose.” The silver bot looked at him suspiciously. “Where did you get these?”

“They were with the groceries.” Jon turned on his heel and skipped out of the room before The Spine could ask him more questions. Now that he knew what it was he wanted to try it, and he didn’t want Spine to forbid him until he’d had a chance.

He heard the heavy footfalls of his brother behind him, and skipped even faster, until he eventually began to run. He could hear The Spine, running also, his heavy legs thumping against the carpet. He wondered why Spine was chasing him anyway, until he heard the shouting.

“Jon!” The Spine yelled, “put those bottles back where you found them!”

That was it? Jon changed direction, running back toward the kitchen. He entered the room at a run, briefly seeing Annie out of the corner of his eye. Then the wall presented itself, and he tossed the bath bottles into the air as he crashed headlong into it. He fell back, wig askew, and expertly caught the bottles before they hit the ground. He’d done this many times before.

“Hi Annie!” He waved at the bemused woman and got to his feet as The Spine entered.

Annie gave him a small wave back. “Is that my bubble bath, The Jon?”

Jon set the two bottles on the table. “I just wanted to know what they were,” he said by way of explanation. That was true enough; he never liked lying, especially to the family. Annie didn’t need to know that he would steal them again later.

“Ah,” Annie said as she unpacked. “I assume he asked you, didn’t he, Spine?”

“Yes, Mrs. Walter.”

“I’m family now, Spine; you can call me Annie.” She had always been a little prickly on the subject of her first name, in that she never wanted anyone to call her anything but. Jon had asked her once why that was, but she hadn’t said anything except that Wanda called her “dear” and “honey” too much. He supposed that was why she was prickly about it.

The Spine inclined his head. “I apologize. I’ve always addressed everyone in the family formally; it’s in my programming.”

Jon knew it wasn’t, not really, but Spine was very set in his habits.

Annie sighed and kept packing groceries away. “Well, while you’re here, Spine, could you go and fetch Peter? Tell him I bought the substances he asked for.” She looked to Jon. “And could you go put my bubble bath in the bathroom, Jon?”

Jon nodded and grabbed the bottles, skipping out of the kitchen before Annie could remember to be more specific about which bathroom she wanted them in.

\----

Jon was not required to take baths, and in fact was in some cases forbidden from doing so. But bathing was one of those things that he enjoyed doing, and so long as he didn’t flood the house, he was left to bathe whenever he liked.

And it was very hard to flood the house now, since his bathroom had been built. It was his own special place to play, and could turn into a pool at a moment's notice. Peter Three (at least, he was pretty sure it was Three) had built the (relatively) little addition to the house and routed at least four drains to various raingutters, and had made the room in all other ways completely water tight.

Jon stepped through the high porthole  that served as the door of his bathroom, bubble bath in hand. He turned on the tap and set to reading the instructions while the water ran. He got halfway through the first line before he decided that he would just add all of it. He unscrewed the cap of one bottle and poured it into the rising water. Sweet-smelling bubbles began to appear immediately, quickly rising into a thick foam that tickled his chin. Jon laughed in delight, and gleefully added the second bottle. He then jumped into the foaming water with a splash and the water level got higher and higher.

\----

The Spine was out walking the garden. He usually liked to read in his free time, but there was a certain restlessness that had settled over him since they had stopped touring in the seventies. It had been fine for a while, but twenty years was a long time to stop performing their usual functions. Well, it hadn’t quite been twenty years, if he wanted to be precise. They had stopped getting booked in 1974, and it was only 1993 now.

His thoughts were disrupted with a gurgling noise. He paused in his stroll, trying to place it, because he knew that he had heard it before, but couldn’t quite place where. It was coming from inside the house, he thought. And was it his imagination, or was it getting closer?

A sudden stream of water burst forth from the gutter above him, the waterfall making its landing on his head. The Spine made an entirely undignified noise as he leaped out of the way, pulling his sodden hat off of his equally sodden wig. He looked around quickly to make sure nobody had seen, then examined his hat. It was soaking, and hung limply from his hand. It wasn’t beyond rescuing; with a bit of steam he could shape it up to be as good as new.

He glared up at the gutter. Jon must have been taking a bath again. Nevermind fixing the hat; it was probably covered with soap scum. He would have to get a new one. The Spine took a deep breath and sighed… Then realized he smelled artificial strawberries. He sniffed at his hat. Yes, that was it.

The Spine looked back at the gutter. There were a few bubbles rising from the spouting water up into the air. The Spine would have bet that they smelled like strawberries, too, and he knew exactly why.

He ran for the bathroom.

\----

Jon was having a lovely time. The entire bathroom was flooded with warm, sweet-smelling water, and every surface was covered in bubbles. The golden robot splashed around the room, rubber ducky in hand, singing and making super-fun bubble sculptures. This was absolutely the best bathtime ever.

There was a knock on the porthole. Jon barely heard it above all the noise, but he did hear The Spine yelling at him to open the door.

Jon made his way over to the porthole and rubbed away the steam and waved at the silver robot, who frowned back and motioned for him to open the door. Jon did so, tugging it through the mire of sweet-smelling bubbles. “Hi, The Spine!”

The Spine took a long sniff, then looked at Jon in distress. “You’re using Mrs. Walter’s bath solution, Jon!”

“Well, Annie can take a bath with me if she wants to!” Jon said happily as he splashed back toward the tub, now completely submerged in strawberry bubbles. “She can play with my ducky!”

“Jon, you need to turn the bath off and clean this up!” The Spine yelled after him.

Jon reached the bathtub and turned the faucet. The water shut off and began to drain immediately, although most of the bubbles stayed. “Why did I have to do that? I was having fun.”

“You need to go apologise to Mrs. Walter.” The Spine gingerly put one foot into the bathroom, then quickly removed it as the bubbles clung to his pant leg. “Go to your room and put your clothes on.”

\----

After cleaning up the bathroom, Jon was in time out for a good long while after admitting to Annie that he’d used all of her bubble bath. She hadn’t cared how fun it was, even when he told her about the bubble sculptures and how he’d made up a song about bubbles like strawberries and sang it to her. She just sent him to the time out corner until forever. Or, at least, it felt like that. Jon was pretty sure that forever was longer than an hour, but that didn’t stop him from complaining.

“I thought the song was good,” he groused at The Spine, who was sitting nearby to make sure he stayed in time out (He was usually the one they asked to do it, as he was generally more reliable than anyone else. They had asked Rabbit to do it once, then forbid him from doing it ever again).

The Spine didn’t reply, he simply turned the page of his newspaper. Jon stuck his tongue out at the silver robot and continued, “I bet that we could turn it into a real song. We could release one of those singles that are popular right now and we’d make a bajillion dollars.”

The Spine looked over his newspaper. “I don’t think so.”

“What do you know, Spine? It could be really popular. People like silly songs, you know. Why does everyone like Destiny's Child?”

“I don’t think it’s because they sing about silly things, Jon.”

Jon opened his mouth to argue the point, then sneezed. Bubbles flew out of his nose and floated past a bemused-looking Spine before finally bursting against the ceiling.

Jon was delighted.

\----

For the next few weeks Jon kept sneezing bubbles, long after Peter (Number Five) said that he should have stopped. He didn’t mind, though, because he thought it was really neat. So did everyone he showed it to. And he showed it off to everyone. Annie, Peter Five, Peter Six, Rabbit, The Spine, the gardeners, the Walter Girls, and even that weird guy who lived in the hedge maze in the back garden. He had showed it off so often that Rabbit eventually snapped at him and told him to go and show it to Hatchworth, if he wanted to show it to someone.

Jon didn’t think Rabbit meant it literally, but he decided to take him at his word anyway. Making his way down to the vault, he knocked on one of the only doors left in the house. “Hello?” he called. He wasn’t sure if Hatchworth could hear him through the vault door, but he knocked again then listened carefully for any sign of movement.

He stayed outside the door for a few minutes, mostly listening, occasionally calling for Hatchworth. Eventually, he heard the sound of rusted joints though the door, and the sound of someone sitting heavily on the other side of it 

“Hello?” he called again, and this time received an answer.

“He-llo?” Hatchworth’s voice sounded largely unused, as rusty as the rest of him. “Who is there?”

“It’s The Jon!” the golden robot replied enthusiastically. “I can do something really cool, and Rabbit said I should show it to you!”

“Oh.” Hatchworth didn’t sound very enthused.

Jon took a deep breath and held it until his nose started to feel funny. He sneezed, then turned toward the vault door. “Bubbles!”

“Bub-bles?” Hatchworth asked.

“Yeah! I can make bubbles show up when I sneeze! They smell like strawberries.”

“Oh,” Hatchworth said again. “That is nice.”

“Isn’t it cool?”

“I sup-pose.” Hatchworth shifted behind the vault door. “I can’t see them.”

“Oh.” Jon had forgotten about that part. “Sorry. I’ll make it up, just let me think about it.”

“That is o-kay. I’m glad you came to vis-it me anyway, even if I could not see the bub-bles. How is ev-ry-thing? I have not heard much.”

Jon was thinking so hard that he almost didn’t hear the question. “Oh, well, we’re on Peter Number Six. Peter Five married this really nice lady named Annie, and she bought this stuff called bubble bath. That’s why I’m sneezing bubbles.” An idea made itself known to Jon’s mechanical brain, and he let it sit there and grow, because it seemed like a good one.

“How is Pap-py?” Hatchworth asked eagerly.

Jon bit his lip. “Nobody told you? Pappy’s not alive any more.”

“Do you mean he can’t come fix me?”

“No… Nobody’s allowed to open up the vault unless they know how. The fracture is dangerous for people if they’re around it too long.”

“I thought so.” Hatchworth sighed miserably, and Jon felt a twinge in his core. “I miss peo-ple.”

“People miss you, too.” The idea in Jon’s mind grew even bigger, and even better. “Hm. You know, I think I have an idea for how to show you the bubbles. I’ll be right back, if you can wait for a while.”

“I can al-ways wait,” Hatchworth replied. “But please be back soon, if you can.”

\----

It took a very long time for Jon to come back, but Hatchworth waited. He was doing a lot of waiting these days. He didn’t have much of an idea of time, down in the vault, but he thought that The Jon hadn’t been by for a few days, at least. He wondered if Jon would come back at all. It had been nice to hear from someone, at least. He could remember that until he was allowed out again. 

“A-lone a-gain, Charlotte,” he said to the black widow spider that dangled from his fingertip. He looked around at the large, silent vault and sighed. Suddenly, his head whipped (insofar as it could do anything resembling ‘whipping’) around as a noise came out of the wall.

Carefully standing up, Hatchworth put Charlotte back onto the wall as high as he could, so she didn’t get hurt, and went to investigate the noise. He was surprised to find that there was a hole in the wall, and that close to the noise was a puddle of water, that was rapidly expanding and getting deeper. The vault started to smell like strawberries.

Hatchworth backed slowly away from the ever expanding mass of water. This couldn’t be what he thought it was.

There was a loud yell, something along the lines of “Yeehaw!”, and a golden robot came sailing out of the hole in the wall, landing in the water with a splash.

“I’m back!” he cried. “Gosh, it sure it dark in here.”

“The Jon?” Hatchworth couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Not that he was seeing much - his core didn’t have much wattage nowadays.

“Yep!” The golden robot hopped up and down excitedly in the rising water. “I tried really hard to be back as soon as I could. It took a long time, but I finally found a way to get more bubble stuff and a portal into the vault, since I’m not allowed to open the door.”

“What does that mean? What is hap-pen-ing?”

“We’re gonna have a bubble bath!” Jon threw himself forward into the sudsy water with a tremendous splash. “A really big one!”

Hatchworth felt the water level go up his legs, and stop rising. He scooped a few sweet-smelling bubbles from the thick foam that covered the surface, and sat down amid the mountains of bubbles, looking around as far as he could look. “You did this for me? 

Jon scooted forward on his rump. “Sure I did. It’s going to be super fun.”

“But,” Hatchworth gestured with a sodden hand, “I can-not even see most of the bubbles.”

Jon had a strange look on his face when he replied, although that might have just been his core playing with his perceptions. “You will soon, don’t worry.”

Hatchworth briefly wondered what Jon meant, until he noticed the blue matter leak from his core lighting up the nearby bubbles with a soft blue glow. The tendrils of light from his leak swam through the water, lighting each bubble up like a star. Hatchworth stared in wonder as a few bubbles began to rise into the air, lighting the vault much more brightly. The bubbles floated around them, perfectly spherical and surprisingly resistant to being popped.

“Oooh,” The Jon said appreciatively, “that’s neat.”

Hatchworth couldn’t help but agree. “Yes. I sup-pose it is.” He glanced over at the golden robot and smiled for the first time in a very long while.

\----

They talked a lot. They played games, too, and Jon sang sometimes, but mostly they just wandered around the glowing bubble mountains, talking. Jon was happy to provide details about the ‘life upstairs,’ as Hatchworth called it. He talked about how the Spine and Rabbit were doing, and how things had been since that fateful day when Hatchworth had been put in the vault.

Hatchy (Jon called him Hatchy once for convenience sake, and the other robot had liked the nickname immensely) was very curious about how things had changed in the world outside of Walter Manor. He wanted to know what advances were being made, how people dressed, spoke, and acted, and Jon tried to explain those things as best he could, despite paying attention to very little of it. Hatchy seemed satisfied with what he knew, but Jon promised to go and explore the world some day so he could tell him more.

But all good things had to end, and soon enough the water had drained (neither of them were quite sure how) and the bubbles, while still there, were fewer in number. It seemed that the bath was over, much to the robots’ dismay.

Jon left via the hole in the wall, waving a cheerful goodbye to Hatchworth, who waved back and asked if he would be back soon. Jon promised that he would try, and he meant it.

\----

After the golden robot was gone, Hatchworth sat down amidst the mountains of glowing bubbles and sighed. It wasn’t his usual sigh, but this time one of contentment.

A spider crawled from the wall to his shoulder, and down his arm. “Hel-lo, Charlotte,” Hatchworth said. “I hope you are not too dis-turbed by the bub-bles.” The spider made no reply, not that Hatchworth expected her to. He smiled and leaned back against the wall.

“I think that this has been a good day, Charlotte. I hope I re-mem-ber it for a long time.”


End file.
